


Chained Rose

by Xekstrin



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, F/F, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3554129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xekstrin/pseuds/Xekstrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an alternate universe where Ruby and Yang never went to Beacon and a terrifying virus threatens the populace instead of Grimm, Ruby Rose is hired by Cinder Fall to be her bodyguard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She Knew My Name

Six months after Yang left me, I received a call from our boss.

Junior’s voice rumbled low through the speaker of my scroll. The screen flashed his image every time he spoke, the only source of illumination in the darkness. No street lights cast a beam in, no neon signs. I had special curtains to block out everything, and sound proof walls. There would be no living in the place otherwise; one of the downsides of living in an apartment above a nightclub, I suppose.

“Newbie, I need someone to drive my friend around.”

That’s how this started.

Still bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, I mumbled something to let him know I was listening. “Details please, Junior.”

“Her name is Cinder.” I glanced over at the clock. Red lines glared back at me, taking a few moments to settle into a real shape. 2AM. “Cinder Fall. She just came in from Vacuo. I want you to drive her wherever she needs to go. Take care of her any way she needs.”

I paused. The name sounded the same way it felt to have fingernails dragged down your back, bad light touches. Uncomfortable and disoriented, I slid out of bed. The sheets tangled around my legs and waist, clinging to me like a jealous lover. Giving up halfway, I surrendered to the knots and just rolled over onto the floor, my scroll phone pinched between my shoulder and ear.

Cinder Fall was a ghost, almost an urban legend among certain circles. Junior might as well have asked me to go pick up Bloody Mary and take her for a spin. Not in the mood for games, I kept on the line for a few more moments, waiting for Junior to bark in laughter and tell me what he really wanted me to do today.

A small sigh preceding the question let me know his patience was wearing thin. “You still there, Newbie?”

I got up off the floor. “Yeah. So is this a joke, or?"

“No joke.”

Well, that piqued my interest. Once I made my way to the kitchen and busied my hands with something, I could think a little clearer. I started up a pot of coffee; Junior continued talking. “I don’t know if she’s the real Cinder Fall, but that’s what she calls herself. In my opinion, with the kind of cash she’s flinging around, she could call herself the king of Atlas and I’d say yes ma’am. She’s hired our boys in the past, too, so this isn’t anything new. This is the first time she’s specifically requested a driver, though.”

Fair enough. “This day isn’t going to end with one of my cars on fire again, is it?”

“Not that kind of driver. Just, bring your nicest car and try to look presentable.”

Generally speaking, Junior liked to assign me as a driver. And why not? I had enough cars that it seemed fitting, even if I was better suited to R&D. Not that I was gonna complain. I liked driving. Being in motion was soothing. And hardly anybody was on the roads at this hour.

Pulling up in front of the airport, I got out and found my client. I spotted her before she spotted me. Junior had texted me a photo of her so I knew who to pick up, as well as any other pertinent information. In an instant, I tried to scan as much of her as I could. 5’5”, somewhere between 140 and 150 pounds, no weapons on her. A cigarette between her lips and two more already dead at her heels.

Whatever she expected to come out of that driver’s seat, it wasn’t me. Something about me arrested her attention at once, made her do a double take. The instant I walked round the car to open up the passenger door for her, I could almost hear how all her attention cracked onto me, jagged as a lightning bolt.

It was the first time I felt the full force of her eyes. It never got any easier to bear as the years went on.

She pulled her cigarette away from her lips, smoke trailing from the lit end and between her lips as she spoke around it.

“And just who are _you_?” she said, grinning thinly, just a small flash of her teeth. I’m not sure what was so entertaining about me, but she seemed only just barely holding it together. “Are you sure you have the right address, driver?”

Well, there weren’t too many ways to respond to that.

“...Yes?” I ventured, before respectfully adding, “Ma’am. I’m your driver, Junior called for me.”

Shaking her head imperceptibly, she let the cigarette drop from her fingers, not bothering to crush it. She swept past me, settling into the car, and I gently closed the door behind her. “Are you even old enough to drive?” she chided.

Irked, I pulled out my wallet and flipped it open, pressing it against the window so she could see my driver’s license. That made her laugh. Then I stamped out the embers she had left behind before returning to my side of the car.

Cinder didn’t wear her seatbelt; I struggled not to snap at her for it. What was the point of being someone’s bodyguard if they wound up dying in some stupid, meaningless way like a car accident? I couldn’t protect the woman from inertia, for goodness’ sake. All I could do was to drive a little more careful.

All through the drive she continued to make rude eyes at me, engaging small talk.

“Old enough to drive,” she said. “But not old enough to drink.” She lounged sideways in her seat, back pressed to the door and legs curled up underneath her. Her modesty was saved only by the fact that she wore tight, black shorts underneath the crushed red velvet of her dress. “I really only needed a driver, you know. But Junior and I go way back. I guess he felt like throwing in something extra for friendship.”

‘Something extra’ sat in the backseat, fiddling with the gun I built for her. Another member of the crew, her name was Violet. We had never worked together before but I knew her by the roman numerals she etched into her gun barrels. I built most of Junior’s weapons, for extra money and for fun. People knew to come for me if their gear needed tweaking.

My eyes flicked over to Cinder, studied her hands. Even the rich can’t hide how many years can collect around your knuckles, skin tight against the bones where it should be loose, and sagging where it should be tight. Lots of people doctor their face, but the hands don’t lie.

Her hands said she was very young. Possibly still in her twenties, maybe I could see pushing thirty if she took care of herself. A tobacco stain here and there solidified it as a long-standing habit, but my nose had already told me that much.

“Really?” I said, grip tightening on the wheel. “I’ve never seen you around the bar.”

I’d remember someone like her.

“Can you put your seatbelt on?” I said at last, just out of hope that it would get her to sit straight, not pointing her whole body at me.

Her response was immediate. “I thought I hired Junior’s people to take orders.”

“You hired me to protect you.” At the next stop light I reached over, pushing her into a better position before I yanked the seatbelt down. She didn’t resist.

We drove further into the city in short time. I expected a bit more to greet us than a dirty stoop. People should still be stumbling home after the bars closed, unfortunate pet owners walking their dog, a homeless person, _something_. But the street I parked in was ghostly.

“Thanks for the lift, Ruby. Wait for us here?” She put a hand on my shoulder, trailing it down my arm. The light caress made my skin crawl, gooseflesh rising up on the back of my neck.

The tension spiked. “I never told you my name.”

Cinder winked at me. “It was on your driver’s license.”

Red-faced, I just unlocked the doors and kept my gaze straight ahead as Cinder and the other guard, Viola, left. Wait. No. Violet, her name was Violet. Names were difficult. But she was Junior’s crew and so I trusted her to do the job right, especially such a straightforward job: Take Cinder to this location and make sure she leaves in one piece. Unless she had an angry stalker ex-boyfriend or something, it should have been a piece of cake.

Getting out of the car to stretch my legs, I dug my hands deep inside my pockets, finding my spinner ring. I’d taken to wearing gloves recently, and the ring didn’t fit over the leather. It was a fidget tool I kept on hand for moments like this, easing any anxiety if I felt I failed or missed some critical social cue. Or if I had to suppress the urge to throttle a client.

_Strnn strnn strnn._

The steel grated.  Perched on the hood of my car, I wondered how long Cinder would take, what business she had in a slum like this. I should have asked her. There had to be a 24 hour place nearby. If I left and grabbed a coffee, would it be noticed? A headache was beginning to form behind my eyes, and something sweet and heavily caffeinated would do a lot to boost my mood.

More than anything else, I couldn’t get over how quiet everything was. An odd client, a vague job, a bad neighborhood, it all left me pretty spooked.

So when I heard a hollow thump ring out from the building next to me-- **TNNK** \-- I near jumped out of my skin.

It sounded like glass. Something striking a window. Planting my feet on the ground, I hopped off my car and went to the source of the noise. It was rhythmic, now, a thumping in the building where Cinder had vanished into. And then it came again, louder than the first time. Hollow, insistent. Activity near one of the ground floor apartment windows. There was something terrible about it, dreadful and familiar, and it didn’t click until I looked in through the window and a corpse stared back at me.

A Scab.

It slammed its head against the glass, an open wound bleeding pitch black on its forehead from where repeated striking had ruptured flesh. At the sight of me, it grew more frequent, hitting harder with the full force of its body as it tried to reach me.

Cold sweat running down the back of my neck, I pulled out my scroll and dialed the Purge hotline.

A very friendly, though decidedly professional voice answered the call.

“This is the Center for Research and Containment of Extra-Monarchical Threats. Please state the nature of your emergency.”

“Yes,” I said, not breaking eye contact with the Scab. It scrabbled at the window, remembering it had hands, remembering how they were used to get past barriers. The thing couldn’t have been more than two hours old. “There’s a uh, there’s a Scab in my neighbor’s apartment.”

A faint note of alarm threaded through the woman’s voice. “Are you in a safe location, ma’am?”

I unfastened the knife at my hip, grabbing onto the hilt tightly. “Yes.”

“Have you been bitten?”

“No. But I can’t speak for anyone else who might be in the building.” Giving her the address before she asked for it, I pulled the knife free from its holster. “Are there any huntresses in the area?”

“None in that postal code, but we’re sending out a Purge team at once. I need you to stay in your safe location and minimize any noise--”

I hung up.

Heading to the front entrance to the building, I tested the door handle, swinging it open as slow as I could manage. Streetlight cast my silhouette on the floor, tall and thin as a needle. I waited a few heartbeats; silence. I was still on the job, and Cinder was somewhere inside. Scabs never infected just one person. If she was still alive I needed to get her the hell out of here-- but I’d need to clear a path first, most likely.

The foyer seemed clear, though I could already hear the Scab in the ground floor apartment starting to get frisky. As more time passed, the smarter she would get; I gave her two hours before she remembered how to use doors.

How far up did I need to go? Or was Cinder on the ground floor as well? Pulling open my scroll again with my knife in the other hand, I dialed the number Junior had given me.

Immediately, Cinder picked up. She didn’t sound happy about it. “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“The driver. You’re not safe. Tell me what room you’re in, I’m coming to get you.”

A moment of tense silence. “6B.” Great. High up. The stairs moved in a square pattern, coiling up with a landing halfway between every floor. My feet were quiet as a huntress’s, though I trembled faintly from the effort. “What’s going on?”

“Scabs in the building. Whatever you do, keep quiet.” I licked my lips. “Stay on the line. Is there anyone in the room with you?”

There was a rustle through the speaker, the sound of breathing against the receiver. “Just your co-worker.”

Finding apartment 6B, I said, “I’m outside. Let me in and I’ll escort you down.”

“I’m not so sure that would be wise.”

The door squeaked open, hinges loud, too loud. Sweat built up on my forehead; hanging up, I wiped it away and stepped inside to see Cinder, Violet, and an eviscerated human body tied up to a chair in the living room.

It was a man, I think. I didn’t look at it too long. The blood on his chest, spilled from an open throat, was fresh enough to still be red. That headache that had been building up spiked, a jab of pain piercing through my skull and my ribs at the same time. Junior’s people and the ones who hired us weren’t always upstanding citizens, but we never killed anyone. There were rules in place, standards. We followed those standards because that was what kept us professional. Otherwise there was nothing that separated us from the gangs.

“What’s this about Scabs?!” Violet had her red shades off, tucked into the front of her vest pocket. Sweat stains darkened the black fabric, she looked half as fucked up as I felt.

Before anything else I shushed her, moving up close to hiss at her. “ _Keep your voice down_.”

Her jaw clamped shut, eyes wide. But she nodded.

On the other hand, Cinder looked so cool I wondered if she even had a pulse. All the flirtatiousness I’d seen in the car had vanished, no more bratty smiles and probing questions. Her eyes bored into me, cold and flat and unyielding. “Don’t worry,” she said, “The body was here when we arrived.”

Pocketing my scroll, I kept one hand in my pocket to fiddle with the spinner ring. “I’m sure that’s going to fly over real well with the Purge team headed to our location.” Skrrn skrrn skrrn. “Is that thing clean?” I added, nodding to the body. “This area is already infested. The last thing we need is him catching it and waking up.”

God, this was a nightmare.

“I don’t know,” Cinder said, “I’ve never dealt with a situation quite like this before.”

Violet threw her hands up. “Do I look like a huntress?”

Fury made me wordless. Fury at their incompetence, at the fact that they were linked to me. I didn’t need to have my name associated with what looked to be a torture victim stinking up the living room. I brushed past them into the kitchen, glad to know my hands weren’t shaking just yet. Following me, Cinder kept her voice low as I rummaged underneath the sink and through the cupboards. Minding my warning to be quiet. “What do you need?”

“Fire should do it.” I was on all fours, head lowered as I peered underneath the dark cabinets. Not a single flammable liquid in the whole place. Maybe there would be something in the bathroom? “Got a match? Or, preferably, a can of gasoline and a flamethrower?”

Cinder held out one hand, palm up. In a heartbeat, a gout of flame rose up from the center of her palm, needle-thin and bright as a blowtorch. It took me by surprise; I knew some laymen cultivated their aura into a specialized power, but by and large that was something you only learned as a huntress.

The kitchen floor was cool under my hands. I focused on that, the sensation of my own body. Here, real. Grounded in reality.

Don’t panic. Do not panic.

“Is that going to be enough to burn a body?” I asked her once my breathing became more level. “Like, to ashes.”

She flashed me a smile, the charm put into it out of place given our current predicament. “Oh, yes.”

“Can you…” I looked over my shoulder. From this angle, I could only see a small slice of the living room. Violet paced in and out of view, gun in hand. “Who… Who is that? The dead guy?”

“I don’t know,” Cinder said again. “This apartment belongs to a friend of mine. I expected to find him here, not a crime scene.” After a beat, she added, “I think he might be dead as well. Either way, I know he’s not responsible for this.”

A crash downstairs made me jump. Ground Floor had forced her way out of her room-- or maybe someone else, someone who had been infected sooner. We waited a few more moments in silence, nerves on fire. At this point it might be a better idea to stay locked up in here until the Purge team rolled through.

But we couldn’t be found here with the thing, either. “If we torch the body, we can just say he was a Scab. Lucky for us, we’ve got a handy infestation downstairs that might make our story credible.”

“Lucky us.”

About to say something else, I’m cut short by a scream from the living room. It ripped through the silence, four gunshots roaring right after the other. On my feet in a flash and stumbling into the living room, I pulled out my knife and charged up my aura before assessing the situation.

The Scab was loose.


	2. She Never Lied To Me

A scream cut through the silence, four gunshots roaring right after the other. On my feet in a flash and stumbling into the living room, I pulled out my knife and charged up my aura before assessing the situation.

The Scab was loose.

The Scab hadn’t been tied down very well— or maybe Violet had untied him? You did need to lay down the body before it could be Purged. At least that’s how it was done before funerals.

Either way the Scab was loose and I had to deal with it, of course. But it was easy. I had trained to do it for years, so many years. Soft steps. Aura up. Weapon out. Violet had missed all the vital spots with her gun, and she was stepping back, hesitant as she saw me in the line of fire.

Easy. This might even be a good thing. We were planning to claim he was a Scab anyway so we had an excuse for burning his body. Now we didn’t need to lie.

Whistling sharply, I got the Scab’s attention. He faced me, focusing on the new noise, and that’s when I struck. I stepped forward, taking the Scab by the head with one hand, palm soaked in aura.

Teeth grazed against the protective field on my palm, shooting up sparks as I pushed his head aside to bare his neck. The knife thrust in just underneath the hinge of his jaw. High up, a twist. But it wasn’t deep enough. Not the right spot, not hitting the source of corruption somewhere in his skull.

Maybe…?

Could be as simple as severing the spinal cord. Depends on the Scab. As quick as the thoughts raced through my mind I struck again, the back of the neck. Just like that, he fell like a sack of bricks.

I let him fall, my knife embedded in his skull, and left my hands up and empty as I stared, expressionless, at Violet.

I could have said anything. Chided her for making noise, criticized her lousy aim—who shoots a Scab in the chest?— but I’m fairly sure none of it would have mattered. Crouching down, I yanked my knife out of the Scab’s skull with a sharp tug. It pulled free easier than expected and the Scab fell apart before our eyes. Flesh sloughed off the bone, curling inward and blackening like the meat was being charred until nothing remained but a greasy pile of ash.

Heart thumping, beating like it wanted to escape. It had been a very long time since I had killed a Scab. A very long time since I had needed to.

“If this building had been seriously infested,” I said, “The noise from the gun would have drawn every single one of them to us. You know that right?”

Violet pulled her sunglasses on, holstering her gun and not responding.

“That’s why the neighborhood is so quiet. People are too scared to even make enough noise for a Purge call. If you had—”

Another loud series of cracks attracted all of our attention. Everyone held their breath. Even Cinder, I think. And again, a little patter patter like a drum beat from down the hall. It was too quick and focused to be Scab noises, originating in a small cupboard just next to the only bedroom. Curious, I motioned for Violet to keep her gun drawn and to follow me as I led the way.

“Is there a person in there,” Cinder wondered out loud, “Or a Scab?”

A muffled scream answered us.

“A person.”

A very large person, tumbling out of the closet when I opened the door. Under a sprawl of limbs and rusty chains, a sweaty and disheveled man looked up at us from the floor with huge, pleading eyes. He was bound with his arms behind his back, mouth covered in duct tape. Cinder bent down, yanking the gag away so he could sputter and spit and curse.

“Thank god. Oh thank god.” The man rattled his chains, deafeningly loud in the silence we had tried to cultivate. “Cinder… Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Haven’t aged a day, still so lovely, so lovely. My savior. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I keep asking myself that.” This must be the friend Cinder had mentioned, the owner of the apartment. They spoke with the contempt of people who have known each other for too long. “How long were you in there? Keep your voice down.”

He rolled his shoulders, the chains shivering on him. Stress and age licked his flaming orange hair down flat to his skull, eye makeup running from either tears or sweat. “Oh, who knows?” His chest rose and fell with ragged laughs, punctuated by small noises of pain. “I would have said something sooner but ah, heh, well, I wasn’t gonna be the idiot who tried to shout during a Purge, eh? Once I heard gunfire, though, I figured somebody screwed the pooch. So I might as well try to make a break for it.”

“Who are you?”

Still twitchy, his head whipped to look at me sharply. His eyes were clear and green, like sea glass. Then he did his best to grin at me. “Roman Torchwick at your service, little lady, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, now—” he began to thrash, furiously wiggling in place. “ _Can someone untie me before the Scabs get us all_?!”

Too much noise. I was about to shush him but Cinder got to work at once, surging down like a hawk to clap a palm over Roman’s mouth. “One more outburst and I’ll boil your brain in your skull like an egg. Do you understand?”

A pause. Then Roman slowly nodded.

Lips thin, Cinder focused the heat of her semblance to her fingertips, slicing straight through Roman’s bonds. When he could move his arms at last, he gasped in pain, rubbing at his chest and sore shoulders.

Taking his hand, she helped him to his feet. “What happened here?” she asked him, her palms skating across his chest once, perhaps checking if he was real. Solid, nothing broken.

“I pissed off the wrong people. Or I’m extremely unlucky. Can’t rule out the improbable.” Grousing low under his breath, he searched his pockets, patting himself down until he found the squashed remains of a cigar. “Some kid broke in here, killed my client in the middle of a deal and then threw me in the closet. Told me I’d be next, then left me here. You guys showed up before that happened, I guess.”

Cinder made a low noise of thought, hands still. Most people would be making nervous movements by now, running fingers through their hair— or pacing, like Violet. But Cinder was smooth, cold, still as a marble statue.

“Either way, we need to take care of the stiff,” Roman mused. There was an umbrella stand next to the closet; he pulled out a walking cane from it, swinging it loosely around his wrist. “Our fingerprints are all over it.”

“ _Your_ fingerprints,” I corrected. “I’m wearing gloves. So is Violet.”

A lighter was produced from another pocket of his sweat-stained topcoat. “Oh!” His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, cute! You got a smart mouth, kid. Who the fuck is this, Cinder? Looks like one of Junior’s monkeys he pays to dance around.”

Violet and I bristled up at the comment about our boss. “I’m the one who took care of that stiff in your living room.”

The cigar puffed up. “If I had a lien every time a baby-faced little thing told me that. So what’d you do?”

“I stabbed him in the neck.”

Most of the color left his face. “Oh. Woke up, did he?”

“Yes.”

“You a huntress?”

“You’re welcome, by the way.” I ignored his question and deferred again to Cinder. “Do you want to wait here for the Purge to sweep through, or do you want me to escort you somewhere else?”

“I’d rather not interact with any kind of law enforcement officials, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Then come on.” I jerked my chin over at the doorway. “Violet, stand behind Cinder. I’ll take point.”

“What about me?” Roman piped up. “Are we forgetting the fact that I was hit in my own home? Are you gonna leave me here with a melted Scab in my living room?”

Ugh. Gritting my teeth, I looked to Cinder for confirmation. “You’re coming with us, of course,” she said, and I made myself comfortable with that fact. “I thought it was obvious. We have a job to finish. You still own that property on Fey Street, right?”

Roman considered her words very carefully. “Yeah, but I’ve been using it as storage. You telling me youuuuu.... wanna start up operations there again?”

“Oh, Roman. Why else would I bother coming to see you? Out of nostalgia?”

“Fair point.” He puffed once. “Lead the way, ladies.”

We went down the stairs carefully, not making noise. Roman was instructed very firmly to leave his possessions behind. We could always come back for them later, but right then we needed to—

The floor shook.

Halfway down the third landing, we paused. Had the Purge team finally come in? Could we just run past them, would they stop us?

Before I had a chance to think, the floor rumbled again. That wasn’t a door getting kicked down.

Roman understood it first.

“They’re not Purging us. They’re nuking us.”

And with that, he found the nearest window on the landing, and launched himself straight out. Violet followed right after him, and I was in the middle of trying to get Cinder to do the same when we heard it again, a resonant series of booming fractures.

“Out the window!” I said, holding her by the waist and dragging her over. “Come on, there’s no time! This place is about to—”

The walls trembled once, and there was another boom. That was all the warning we got before the floor fell from beneath our feet, the entire building folding in like a house of cards.

 

* * *

 

Dust coated my lungs, made me choke. My spit came out black. When the world stopped spinning, I tried to sit up, only to get knocked flat back down by the searing, stabbing pain in my ribs.

Oh, great.

I tried to figure out what had just happened, where I landed. I remembered Roman and Violet leaping out the window, and then the floor was gone from under my feet just as I was about to spring after them. There were explosions, a Purge team dealing with the Scabs on ground level and on the stairs.

What happened? _What happened???_

I swallowed, throat dry.

“They nuked us.” My own voice sounded hollow and strange, out of practice. Rusty from disuse, like the rest of me, such a shame, this model wears out so quickly. “ _Why_ …?”

Roughly, I shook my head to get those thoughts out.

Nevermind _why_ they did it, the fact remained that they _did_ do it. They nuked the building. Every structure in the city was designed to crumble inward at the press of a button, a failsafe enacted after we began rebuilding, after the Naming War. That was when the first Scabs began to appear. People said they were punishment for the War, others were sure it was a herald of the end times. In the end, the best way to fight it was to treat it like a virus, and so that’s how most people think of it. It functioned like one, like a disease. It ate the Grimm, and then it came for us.

Well, forgetting that, I was stuck in a tunnel or something and I needed to get out. Dim and grimy, I navigated mainly with my ears, occasionally shooting out a small tendril of aura to feel ahead as I picked a direction and walked.

I found something human-shaped and a split-second of panic made my heart race before I realized it was still breathing, a spark of light showing me a human soul when I looked at the world through my aura. I blinked and a black velvet curtain fell over my vision again.

“Hey,” I said, softly. There was a clatter, a noise of fear. “Hey, don’t freak out. I’m not a Scab. Not gonna hurt you.” It had been a very small shape, a child, I assumed. “What’s your name? Are you injured?”

The person didn’t respond. Shallow breaths hit my ears.

I kept talking. “I was in the building that got knocked down. We must have fallen into the abandoned subway tunnels… there might be Scabs down here too.”

The person spoke, high pitched voice letting me know for sure it was a child. Or possibly still just a tiny adult. “Who are you?”

“My name is Ruby. Who are you?”

“Jasper.”

I found him, getting close enough that I could almost make out his face. My eyes had adjusted to the low light as best as they could. “Cool, like a gem stone! We’re matched.”

After a moment of hesitation, he agreed.

“Jasper, you must have lived in that building. Right? I think I know a way out of here. My friend from....” From when I tried running with another gang to separate myself from Junior, to keep from being under Yang’s perpetual shadow. “...High school used to….” Smuggle untaxed goods. “Er… Explore these tunnels. There’s an elaborate subway system, you know that. Sometimes when the city renovates, they dig new ones instead of fixing the old ones.”

I cleared my throat to get some of the dust out of it. “From where we landed above ground, that would mean…” I thought about it. “We’d need to head south for about thirty minutes to get to one of his drop off points. I mean, where my friend would come up for air.” Jasper had kept mum, making me a little nervous, and babbly. “Are you following?”

He coughed too. “Yes. I think. You know a way out of here?”

“Yeah. Hopefully.” Taking off my sunglasses, I focused hard and breathed fog onto the lenses, coating them with aura. When I put them back on I could see better, and to my unpleasant surprise Jasper was crying. His cheeks shone with tears, the front of his shirt drenched with sweat and who knows what else.

What a brave kid. He knew better than to sob too loud.

Squatting down so we were closer in height, I adjusted my sunglasses back along the ridge of my nose. “Are you okay, Jasper?”

“No. No. I’m— I’m—” He couldn’t get the words out, crying silently and hiccuping between every other syllable. Then he lifted up the hem of his shirt, and I hissed in sympathy. A swollen red bite mark marred his flesh, jagged and vicious and already bleeding black. “I’m infected. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I’m gonna become a Scab and a huntress is going to come and kill me and—”

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa whoa. Slow down.” Pulling a handkerchief out of my sleeve by my teeth, I handed it to him, roughly swabbing at his face until he got the hint and started doing it on his own. “No, Jasper. It’s okay. No, no, no. You won’t become a Scab, I promise. Jeez, what are they teaching kids nowadays?”

I shrugged out of my suit jacket, wrestling with the buttons for too long. My whole body still ached, especially my ribs. “I used to be a huntress. I’ve been bitten once or twice.” Teeth marks lined me like perforations on a notebook. “Getting bit doesn’t mean you become a Scab, who told you that?”

A flash of hope, mingled with terrified confusion. “My… my friend Jeremy.”

“When you see Jeremy next, bop him on the fucking nose.” That shocked a laugh out of him; I think he wasn’t used to adults swearing in his presence. “Now listen to me. I need to make sure you and I are on the same page. Okay? You are infected,” I confirmed with him, pulling my jacket over his shoulders. The boy didn’t say anything, just trembled in my jacket. It was way too big for him. I’m tall, like my sister. Lanky like my father. And I wasn’t equipped to deal with kids.

“There’s a few things that might happen. It’s going to hurt, a lot. It’s going to take a long time to heal. And when you die, if no one burns the body, you’ll become a Scab.”

“But not…” he grappled with it, with the truth. “Not right away?”

“No. You have to die first.” The biggest problem right then was that I knew the wound would get infected no matter what we did. If he didn’t get treatment, he absolutely would die here and become a Scab. The only hope was to get him to a hospital, somewhere he could get pumped full of antibiotics and dumped in an ice bath if the fever got too bad. “Something like seventy percent of people get _really_ sick from the bite. Twenty-five percent don’t get anything worse than a mild rash.” I stood up.

“And the rest?”

“They get immunity, like me.” I flashed him a big grin before remembering he couldn’t see it. “I mean, not to brag.”

“That’s really cool. Do you think—”

A sudden terror struck Jasper, robbing him of his words. Visible and palpable; he went white as a sheet, veins pulsing in his neck with a surge of adrenaline. He stared behind me with an intensity that didn’t suit his young face, too terrified to even scream. I whirled around, knife in hand and aura up. When I saw what Jasper saw, I understood.

Two eyes stared at us from the darkness, lurid, molten gold like a predator at night. The heat and light spread out, tendrils forming meaningless patterns, distending into long claws. Not a Scab, no, something worse. You only saw them in movies or textbooks, horror stories left in the dark— until I’m struck with a note of familiarity.

The light pooled out, illuminating the small space. Clear to our eyes now, Cinder stepped closer, and I relaxed.

“So you made it out as well,” she said, cool as you please.

“Yeah,” I agreed. Scared the shit out of me with those Grimm eyes of hers. “You ok?”

“I’m fine. As I understand it, we can leave by these tunnels to the roads above, so let’s move. Lead the way.”

I nodded, then quickly explained to the kid. “Hey, this is my friend. There’s nothing to be afraid of, she won’t hurt you. Come on. You can walk, you didn’t get bitten on the leg.”

Understandably still cautious of the woman, Jasper waited for me to move before he did, keeping close to my side. I put a hand on his shoulder to guide him, quietly muttering directions as we navigated the semi darkness. Cinder kept her light to a soft glow at my instructions.

We came across a horde very shortly after that.

All of us froze, struck still at the sight. Tenants of the apartment complex, most likely, all of them down here with us. The good news was they were fresh and stupid, the bad news was we had come to a junction. A Y path split in front of us, the path on the right was where we needed to go and it was jam packed with Scabs.

There wasn’t time to plan. I just hoped my companions were quick enough on their feet to follow my orders.

I was glad to note Cinder had dimmed her lights some. Taking Cinder by the shoulder, I shoved her towards the wall as the Scabs shuffled towards us. “Get as close to the wall as you can, don’t make a move. I’ll distract them. The exit is a metal ladder about fifteen minutes in that—” I pointed to the right prong of the Y. “—direction. Walk, _don’t run_ , don’t make noise. Jasper, they got doctors on Patch who specialize in that seventy percent. Go!”

I shouted louder, distancing myself from the pair. “Hey! Hey! Hey!” Pressing my thumb and forefinger to my lips, I blew out the shrillest whistle I could manage. “Hey, Scabs! Over here! Yum yum, fresh bait. Follow the birdie!”

I stepped to the side, the left branch of the Y. Clucking my tongue, I drew the creatures to me, away from Cinder and Jasper. The two of them inched down the right prong of the Y junction. I led the Scabs away, further from Cinder’s light, further into the darkness.

Walking backwards just ahead of their awkward, shambling pace, I pulled one of my tools out from my belt loop. It was a wooden construction, something I’d carved together a thousand times before. I always kept one or two on me just in case—

Just in case—

Just in case.

A roughly hewn whistle, it was attached to a thin extendable steel wire that I looped around my index finger. Spinning it, I whirled the toy around and around, an even pace. The wind pushed through the spherical shell, funneling at just the right angle to create a constant low whine as long as I kept twirling it.

The Scabs went absolutely bonkers at that, breaking into a trot as they chased after me. Twirling faster, the wind toy squealed louder and louder the faster I spun, faster and faster and faster until—  _crack_!

In the snail’s curl of the toy, there was a thin wooden rod, flimsier than a match stick. It had a core of pure red Dust, and combusted into flames upon breaking. Once I hit a certain speed, the wind hit it at a sharp enough angle to snap it right in half. The wooden whistle was thick and burned well, lasted a good amount of time. Enough time to get away.

Focusing my aura and spreading it over me like a thin sheet of ice, I went dead cold. I loosed the toy on the next swing, letting it fly down the dark path. Skittering across the floor and whistling like a firecracker, it was a Beacon for every Scab within shouting distance. With my body heat muted, I didn’t look even half as appetizing as that little wooden toy. All I had to do was press myself flat against the wall and let the horde howl on by.

Only my training kept me from laughing out loud and bringing them right back to me. Newborn Scabs were dumber than cows. Then I took careful steps, huntress steps, making my way quietly back down the correct path and catching up to Cinder and Jasper in no time. And it was good I found them when I did, they had almost walked right past the exit.

A rusty ladder led up to the entrance above, the store where my old friend used to smuggle goods through to his business above. They were steel, soldered right into the brick, it looked like. Like a metal ribcage sticking out of the wall.

At this point I didn’t need to motion them for silence, they knew to keep their mouths shut, but I could tell they were getting impatient. Jasper’s head kept nodding; I could hear his breath, ragged and wet. If we didn’t get him to a hospital soon there would be no chance at him surviving the Scab sickness.

“What’s happening,” Cinder said. I noticed her voice had gone completely flat, the way it did when we were alone in Roman’s kitchen. No inflection, no emotion at all that I could detect.

Sweat dripped down my nose as I punched up at the hidden door. It bumped up once before slamming shut. Was something pinning it down? Had they rolled a safe over it? Or maybe put a layer of cement over it? “It won't open. Why won’t it open?” I hooked my feet tight around the ladder steps, barely keeping my balance as I shoved up with both arms. “Why won’t it open?!”

We couldn’t stay down here for very long. The Scabs would get smarter soon and realize I had run back this way. They’d come for us.

And Jasper—

A low, retching sound let me know he was progressing to the next stage. Black blood clung to his lips as he vomited again; Cinder took a step back, lips curling in distaste.

“Ruby.”

Dragged out of my own panic, I met Cinder’s molten eyes. She was very calm, and I took strength from it. “Think carefully. Was the door always locked?”

“No,” I said, “We would…”

We would have to wiggle it open. That’s right. In my panic, I’d completely forgotten. Reaching to my belt again, I took out the knife and jammed it in between the seam, trying to find the latch. Seconds ticked by, precious seconds, and I was soaked through with sweat when the latch broke free and I could push the door up.

Sunlight burst down, a square ray of hope. Sheathing the knife, I reached down to see Jasper had already passed out. “Give me the kid!”

Cinder tossed him up to me without warning. Somehow, I caught him, shoving him up and over and scrambling after him. Cinder climbed up after me and I kicked the door shut, collapsing onto the white tiled floor of a neighborhood bodega. Looks like the owners had changed since the last time I came down here.

What I assumed to be the new shop owners were staring at us. One of them was holding a very large gun.

“Hi,” I said, breathing hard and grinning at them. “Did you know there are Scabs underneath your store?”


	3. I Thought I'd Never See Her Again

A loud scrape of metal on metal screamed in the tiny shop as Cinder and I dragged a heavy fridge over the trap door. The owners of the shop helped us once they saw the bite wound on Jasper’s side. All his blood was turning black by then, seeping through his shirt like an oil spill. He’d progressed quicker than I’d feared, fever searing hot and trembling all over. 

“Think this’ll be enough?” Cinder asked as I found a freezer full of ice bags. Taking them out without a word, I nodded to her to help me and started packing them around Jasper. I had dragged him out of the aisles and to a clearer space in front of the register, and stripped him down of most of his clothes. My jacket was ruined but I put it on anyway.

“For now, maybe.” I clapped my hands on my thighs to wipe off the leftover condensation from the machine. A ceiling fan swung limply, stirring dense summer air. The elements were against us here— maybe I should have tried to find a way to shove him into the freezer instead of taking the ice out? But he needed to lie on his side or he risked choking on his own vomit. “He still needs medicine.”

Snapping her fingers in front of my face to get my attention, she pointed to the appliances we had used to pin the trapdoor down. “I meant that. Is that enough to keep _them_ out?”

“Oh.” I blinked a few times, collecting what I knew from my training and trying to fit it into words that she would understand. She felt like a huntress but she didn’t act like one, didn’t even know how to walk soft. That was the first thing they beat into you. “Yes. They’re not stronger than people.” 

One of the shop owners crouched next to Jasper, one hand to his forehead. “He’s gone quick,” she said. “He might die and wake up again.”

“He won’t if you hurry up and call an ambulance. Don’t move him too much,” I added, pointing at her reprimandingly before I strode over to the register. One palm flat on the counter, I leapt over, ignoring the pain in my side to find a landline phone and call the Purge hotline for the second time today. I waved over the other shop owner, shoving the phone in his hands. “Talk to them. Ask for a huntress. Tell them there’s an Emperor.”

The shop owner went pale. Few Grimm existed still, wiped out by the superior threat, but Emperors had stuck around. For good reason. Loopy from fresh air and adrenaline, I started laughing at his reaction. “There isn’t one really. But if you tell them that, they’ll sent a huntress for sure.” 

I pulled out my wallet as the man stammered out some kind of explanation to the Purge hotline, that there was a breach and there were Scabs and possibly an Emperor in the city subway tunnels. When he hung up, casting frightened eyes over the trap door in his shop, I tapped his shoulder to get his attention. “Take this,” I said, folding a stack of paper lien into his hands. “I’m sorry. This must be very frightening. But I need to leave now. I wasn’t here. Do you understand?”

His fist clenched over the money, but he still protested. “You— you can’t just— you—”

I pressed a finger to my lips. 

And then my hand whipped out, grabbing him by the wrist, hard and twisting. One simple nudge to the back of his knees and a bit of maneuvering and he was face down on the counter. He was not much bigger than me, and also not as well trained. “Yes, I can,” I told him, applying more pressure when he wriggled too hard. “I’m not here to hurt you, but I will if I need to.”

“Ruby.” That was Cinder, approaching us, the other shop owner’s gun in her hands, snatched when the pair of them had gotten distracted by Jasper. “Cameras?”

“Probably. Where?” I directed the next question to the shop owner, twisting harder for answers until he pointed them out.  

I let him go roughly, taking spare change from the register and focusing my aura into it. Flicking them, the coins flung out as buckshot with the speed of my semblance, taking out the camera above the register. Cinder shot out the others and I found where the memory was being stored, a small computer humming behind a sliding panel under the counter. I kicked it in, aura funneled through to short circuit any electronics until nothing was left, no recording, no proof.

While I did that, Cinder went all yellow-hot again, the energy pooling into her hands until the metal of the stolen gun dripped between her fingers, cooling on the floor. 

“Don’t follow us,” Cinder warned, and then we left.

Leading the way, I dug my hands back into my pockets as we strolled down the sidewalk. Cinder followed a few steps behind until I shortened my stride, letting her catch up to me. She was shorter than me, I had to be courteous. Her heels clicked on the cement. “You don’t need a bodyguard,” I accused her under my breath.

“I only hired a driver,” she reminded me. “Where are we going?”

“A safe house.” The spinner ring fidgeted under my fingers. I kept an eye out on our surroundings as the sky lightened, wondering if the Purge was taking place underneath our feet, or if the Scabs had gotten wise and figured out they needed to leave the city limits if they wanted to survive. 

It took about an hour to walk there. I offered to call a cab but Cinder declined. “We need to see if Violet and your friend are okay. Do you have his number?”

She huffed. “If I had his number I wouldn’t have gone to see him in person.”

Well how was I supposed to know that? I kinda figured he was her boyfriend or something, and that’s why he was the first person she wanted to see after her plane touched down. “Violet’s not answering her scroll, either. If people running together ever get separated, we usually try meeting up back at the bar.”

“So why aren’t we going there?”

“Safe house is closer. And there’s a spare car there. You hired me to drive, right?”

We found it as the sky lightened fully, crisp and blue and cloudless. It was hard to believe it was the same day as the one we had started out in, when we had been underground, walking on the edge of Grimm teeth. Now we were here. A bright and early summer morning. The car wasn’t one of mine and the battery wheezed in protest when I revved her up, but Cinder put on her seatbelt this time and I was grateful. I was too tired to correct her.

I parked behind Junior’s club, helping Cinder out of the passenger seat with a hand.

“You’re such a gentleman,” she said, stepping out. 

She didn’t let go of my hand for longer than I was comfortable with, but I also didn’t want to pull away. “I’m really not. Do you want me to wait by the car again?”

“No, come inside with me. I feel safer with you close.”

“Of course.”

When we entered, the empty club floor yawned out, pitch black marble pristine enough to be a mirror. A faint echo of Cinder’s reflection stretched in front of me, all of her fluttering like a candle in the dark. 

Roman was hunched over the bar, Violet paced nearby, and Junior was fixing Roman a drink. To calm his nerves, probably. 

Head twitching up at the sound of glass heels, Violet spotted me first. She joyously called out my nickname, getting everyone else to pay attention as well. “Newbie! You’re alive!”

I frowned at her. “I outrank you, you know.”  


Violet and I stood away from our bosses; Junior and Cinder met each other halfway around the bar, conversing in low, intense tones.   


“It rhymes. Get over it. What happened?”

“I was gonna ask you.” I glanced up from her to see if I could figure out what Cinder and Junior were saying, if she was telling him about the Scabs, or if she was demanding her money back. “Why’d we get nuked? Has there been anything on the news?”

It was Roman who answered me. I thought he might be too drunk to string words together, but he seemed full of surprises. “Why?” he asked me. “Why wouldn’t they?” A bitter laugh escaped his throat, ragged from alcohol and the events this morning. “Who’d risk valuable _Puuuurge_ soldiers—” he lifted his drink towards me, as though pointing in accusation. “On a bunch of ghetto rats and criminals?”

“Well, they shouldn’t have. Nuking the building just made things worse— Cinder and I both made it out, but so did a horde of Scabs.”

Roman swiveled in his chair, long legs bent at the knee with his heels resting on the rungs of the stool. “So?”

I felt my eyelid twitch, unexpectedly. “So?! There are Scabs in the subway tunnels!”

“Oooh,” Roman said. “Sounds like the title of my next summer blockbuster.”

Who was this guy? Burgeoning rage quickly burned through my lingering exhaustion. “It’s not funny.”

“No, it’s hilarious.”

This guy kept talking but all I heard was _please, Ruby, please punch me in my stupid shitty face_. He was begging for a lesson, and insisted I be his instructor. Yanking my sunglasses off with trembling hands, I started moving towards him, already snarling for blood.

“ _Ruby_.”

The force behind the name made me stop in my tracks. I stood just short of reaching Roman, staring down with my heart beating in my head. Still trembling all over, though I had willed myself to knock it off. Cinder and Junior had barked my name at the same time, commanding me to stop. The combined weight of both my bosses all that was keeping me from losing it.

Roman reclined in his chair, arms spread out across the bar, smirking up at me.

A disgusted sigh. “Both of you in the same room gives me a headache.” Cinder pushed the heel of her palm to her forehead, seeking patience. “Roman, go for a walk. You’re drunk and I’m liable to kill you myself.”

He shrugged. Roman got to his feet without a hint of sway or slur to his steps. “Keep your dogs under control,” he said in passing to Junior as he left, drink in his hand. 

I hate people like him. I hate people like him. I hate people like him, I hate people like him, _I hate people like him_ —

Swallowing, I tucked my glasses into my suit’s chest pocket. Even though I was still furious, my righteous anger was tempered by the sudden embarrassment of my outburst. I needed to move. So I angrily started scrubbing down the bar counter. Roman had made a grand fucking mess.

Cinder spoke again, to Junior this time. “You need to screen your people better. The driver did a better job protecting me than the actual guard you sent along.” She pressed her lips together. “If anything, Violet made things worse. And she left me for dead.”

“Newbie had you,” Violet smoothly defended herself. I organized the straw container, yanking off my soiled jacket and tossing it over one of the chairs. “But you also wanted someone to watch after Roman, yeah? So I stuck with him and got him here safe and sound.”

A dry silence followed. “How selfless,” Cinder said, giving her a cold smile.

My boss cleared his throat to get Cinder’s attention back to him. A single vein of sweat work its way down Junior’s neck, trembling when his throat bobbed. “Violet. Newbie. Scat. Make sure no one comes in until opening hours.”

I did as he said, taking Violet by the tie and dragging her along when it looked like she was getting ready to stay and argue. 

Trying to figure out how we had gotten to this point, I made her stand outside and _stay_ outside as we waited for an update. She whined and paced some more, complaining that it wasn’t her fault she got stuck with such a crazy mission she hadn’t been ready to handle. In terms of skill and hours served, I outranked her considerably. The more I thought about it, the more this seemed like a simple mission for the rookie to tag along with her veteran partner, something to get her feet wet. One that had gone terribly wrong.  


The signal on my scroll wasn’t that great outside the club, and I was too far away from my wifi on the top floor to connect to that, either. So I pestered Violet into giving me hers, and started scouring the news to see what was happening. 

“It’s a mess,” Violet said, propping her chin on my shoulder to look at the scroll too. I shrugged her off, tilting the screen another way so she didn’t have to touch me to look at it. “They say it’s gonna be another Patch.”

“That’s impossible,” I muttered. “Patch was a clusterfuck because of its isolation from mainland resources. This isn’t comparable to that.”

“You were on the island when it happened, yeah?” Violet asked, tapping the screen to see live updates. “That’s what Junior told me.”

“Yes.”

A group of hunters were descending into the subways, all traffic at a complete halt, and Purge teams ready to back them up. “Is that why you’re so kooky?”

“No.” I refreshed the page. They were updating live. One reporter was skilled enough in aura that she dared to join the huntresses down below. “Why do you care about me? Let’s talk about you, and that oversized suit you’re wearing. Did you steal it from your boyfriend?”

It was good misdirection. Too concerned with her own image, Violet leapt away from the past in order to defend herself. “It’s my suit. I bought it.”

“Get it tailored. Sharpen up.” In my wallet I had a business card for the tailor I frequented, flicking it so that it bounced against Violet’s head and she had to bend to pick it up. “This guy’s good.”

Violet took the card to tap it against her scroll screen, refreshing it again. Live fire. It made my blood pound. I should be there. I could still be there, if I left right now. If I left right now I could go back to where I was needed, where I was supposed to be. 

And then my ribs started aching with a fresh interest, reminding me of where I was and who I was and why I was stuck here.

“If the apocalypse doesn’t happen,” Violet said, “I’ll go give him a look and see if he can shorten the sleeves, okay?”

“Okay. I just don’t want you to make me look bad by association.”

We watched in silence as the news site updated. A short, intense struggle under the city. Roman came back at one point, but on seeing me without my boss there to pull the leash if I had another meltdown, he quickly retreated back to wherever he had gone. I hoped the Scabs took him.

People on surface level were already panicking; I saw the mid-morning traffic die down and then stop entirely as everyone with sense in their heads rushed to a shelter or a hospital, getting tested, holing up. Most businesses closed. Everyone whispering, _Scabs in the city, Scabs in the city. Patch, Patch, Patch._

A squad of police cars swarmed past our tiny club in howling agony, and alley-pickers came across us once or twice and asked us to report any recently deceased to the Purge hotline like good citizens. They continued on their search, weapons in hand.

By late afternoon, all the Scabs in the subway system were reported terminated. I hoped it was true. In any case, public transport woke up again and I saw more people cautiously drive past. Irritated with her for her shoddy performance that morning and by her general disrespect, I forced Violet to fetch lunch for us. We cracked open a pair of energy drinks and watched the building until the regular club muscle showed up. 

At that point, Cinder had finished wrapping up any business she had with Junior. Violet and I straightened up at the sight of her exiting the club, but Cinder ignored her in favor of me. 

“If you’re still up for it, I need a ride home.”

“Of course, ma’am.” I was still on the clock. Junior had told me that, the call at two in the morning. Take care of her any way she needs. Fishing out my car keys, I tossed them at Violet. “Go get my car, if it’s still at the Purge site, and park it at the garage two blocks down from the club.”

“How am I supposed to get there?” Violet asked. “What do I do if it’s been towed?”

I opened up the passenger door for Cinder, waiting until she was safely inside before slamming the door shut and sending Violet a glare. “That’s your problem to figure out. I’m sticking with the client. Just make sure my car is in it’s spot tomorrow morning.”

“You’re being an asshole!” she shouted at me as I walked round the car to the driver’s side. “It’s not my fault Purge nuked the building!”

“Shape up and I’ll be nicer,” I told her, and left. Hopefully she’d be so mad she’d request never to be partnered with me again, and I could return to doing solo jobs, the way I preferred.

Unlike the first ride this morning, Cinder kept quiet as I drove. She only broke the silence to give me directions to her hotel. She was less coy now, too, and I wondered if it stemmed from exhaustion, or if I had passed some imperceptible test and she was fine not making small talk now.

I idled in front of our destination, a humble looking hotel in the middle of the city. Every business had their doors unlocked now, and people haltingly returned to real life. So I expected her to go somewhere nicer. This place didn’t look good enough for her. “Need anything else?” I asked. “Do you plan to go anywhere else after this?”

“I do,” she said, “But Roman will pick me up.” They must have exchanged scroll numbers while I wasn’t looking. “Thank you for everything, Ruby.”

“It’s not…” Unexpectedly, heat gathered around my collar. Mumbling something else, I turned up the A/C to keep my hands busy. I was glad I had left my stained suit jacket back at the bar. “It’s just my job. I was asked to escort you today.”

Her lips curled up. “You saved my life. Can’t I say thank you?”

I hit the switch to unlock the doors. “It wasn’t all me. You helped. So uh. You’re welcome. And thank you, too.”

She put her hand on my knee. A soft touch, too soft. 

I went still.

“I’d like it,” she said. Her palm was hot, rising up my thigh. “If you stayed with me until my flight leaves tomorrow? I’d feel safer.”

My brain went ten different directions, the stress of the day forming as a magnificent headache right between my eyes. It hit me harder than Cinder’s come-on, pulse jumping in my neck. “I’m not that kind of escort,” I told her, and the click of her seatbelt unbuckling sounded loud as a firing pin. 

“I know.” Her laugh was small. Cold and musical like a handful of coins. “This has nothing to do with that. If you weren’t Junior’s girl, I’d still ask you.” She shifted closer, both her hands just over my chest. I don’t know if it was her semblance or just... her, but she radiated heat in the small, enclosed space of the car. I found myself touching her too. Gripping her hip, thumb cautiously stroking the smooth velvet of her dress. It was soft. So few things in my life were soft.

I don’t know why I kissed her, but I did. She wanted me to do it so I did. She held onto the back of my neck with a firm hand, keeping me in place. I hadn’t realized how much tension I’d been holding until I let it out, melting against her. Maybe I really liked her, maybe I was just glad to be alive and touching someone beautiful.

The knot of my tie came loose under her hands, slipping from around my neck so that she could pop open the first button of my shirt. This was getting dangerous. We were still parked in a public place. I didn’t even know if I wanted more than what I’d already taken. 

“I hope your boss doesn’t need you for a while, Ruby Rose,” Cinder said.

My ribs screamed. It took a moment to register, my mouth still full of her, overwhelmed by the red smear of her lipstick on my face. Then I paused, sitting back a bit to look into her cold yellow eyes.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I leaned forward, past her, and opened up the passenger door.

“I’m sorry,” I said, hating the way I was breathing, like I was running a marathon. The car was too hot, my clothes sticking to me with sweat and grime, and Cinder was a client. “Sorry. ...Sorry.”

After processing that, she just smiled at me, looking sad.

“I can’t…” I swallowed. “Sorry. I can’t. Junior has another business, if you need a— girl or— someone. I could get you that, or take you somewhere else, but I can’t.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked, pulling down the hem of her dress, suddenly modest about her bare thighs. “Or girlfriend?” She smoothed down her hair.

“No. That’s not why.” A car honked near us, making me jump. We weren’t in the middle of the street, but I couldn’t stay idling in front of the hotel forever. “Ma’am, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“I’ll give you a call if I think of something.” The mask— that was the first time I thought of it that way— came back on and she was effortlessly charming, graceful in the face of rejection. Something came between us that hadn’t been noticeable in its absence. “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

“I will. Have a good day, Ms. Fall.”

“You too.”

She left. I watched her leave, staring after her, with my shirt half undone and my tie a limp U draped over my shoulders and lipstick on my face. Wiping it off on my sleeve, I sat back in my car and stared at the roof, knowing I was being irrational, knowing I was paranoid and afraid for no reason.

And yet…

Doubting my own memory because of the surety with which she had said my name, I pulled my drivers license out of my wallet with trembling hands. Going over the name at the top, over and over again, before tossing it onto the passenger seat and cleaning myself up. I drove away, glancing every so often at my license. Not knowing how to process this, or knowing what it meant.

My name on my driver's license read: RUBY XIAO LONG.

At that point I was close to losing it. The pain in my head traveled down my sore body, reminding me of the abuses it had suffered recently and in the past. With no one around to watch me be weak, and my job for the day over, I succumbed to the pain. Flashing the emergency lights on, I screeched to a halt on the side of the highway, scrambling out of my car just in time.

Bent over on the asphalt, I waited for the worst of the dizziness to pass before I tried to do anything else. I hadn’t thrown up, but the pain was unbearable now, insistent. Stress made the flare ups worse than they had any right to be.

A trickle of blood spurted down my nose. When I lifted my hand to wipe it aside,[ I saw that it was black.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A288rRYeKPk)


	4. I Actually Did Just Want To Help But I Have A Reputation To Maintain

Daddy took us to the wishing tree. **  
**

The ground rumbled. Yang sat behind him on the bike, clinging to his back, and I rode in the sidecar because I was smaller. 

Patch was a small island full of mountain roads, twisting and turning around nameless streets and neighborhoods without numbers or walls. We turned and turned, my jacket’s collar flapping in the winds.

When we’d reached the park, Daddy parked the bike and lifted me out of the sidecar. The rest of the trip was a long trek through the woods, off the beaten trails. _Grimm territory_ , Daddy said, but that meant nothing to me. There hadn’t been a Grimm on Patch Island in at least thirty years.

Pressing a gold coin into our hands, he grinned. The sun hit him from behind, obscuring his face, so all I could remember was his laugh and his smile. 

“Make a wish, girls,” he said, a hammer swinging loosely from his belt and a few nails jingling in his pockets. “Hold the coin tight and keep the wish in mind. When you’ve got it locked down, we’ll give it to the dragon.”

It didn’t take long to spot it. The dragon shone in the sunlight, glittering gold and brass and copper. It was a gnarled and twisted old tree, bent over in such a way that you could almost see the curve of a spine, the jagged horns, the open maw. And everywhere, every inch of him, was covered in coins. By the time we reached him Yang was bouncing on the balls of her feet, too excited to speak, lips pressed tight so she didn’t accidentally blurt out her wish too soon. 

“If you say it, it becomes real,” Daddy said. “But you can’t say it too soon or you’ll waste it!”

I clutched the coin tighter, nodding solemnly. Yang seemed ready to pop.

“Find an empty patch.”

We examined the tree, Yang clambering up the branches and swinging along drooping chokevines, and I checked the base. All the easy spots were taken, of course.

“Aren’t you worried about people stealing them?” I asked, because I noticed some of the coins were silver lien, burning white-hot in the sunlight and hurting my eyes. Anyone could take a hammer and pick them off.

“Would you steal treasure from a dragon?”

Before I could answer, Yang started shouting. “Oh, Dad! Dad! Ruby! I found a spot! Right here on his belly!”

With another grin, Dad started whistling like a bird, a flawless mimicry that always made me laugh. “Good girl! Show us where so we can make a wish.”

She showed him. Setting her coin against the trunk, Dad clenched the other nails between his teeth and carefully took aim before whacking it in with a few short strokes. “Ruby’s turn. Made a wish yet?”

I didn’t answer, giving him the coin. 

“Two new scales for the dragon,” Dad said, sounding proud as he hammered mine in. “Okay, now you can share your wish with each other. But you have to do it in a whisper, or the wind’ll take it.”

Beckoning him down and whispering her secret into his ear, Yang detailed the specifics of her wish to him. Rather than indulge them, I turned instead to the tree. The dragon looked less alive at this angle, with all the coins so close I could see the stamps and dates and printed letters. I wondered if there were any really old ones, and started tiptoeing my fingers across the scales like little legs.

There were so many of them, they blurred into each other. Every so often green copper and faded bronze would dot the landscape, but the dragon was overwhelmingly gold. Each one burned, hotter and hotter, until suddenly I realized they were filled with the fire from the dragon’s skin. 

Each gold scale melted and ran, forming again into lurid eyes. 

A thousand peacock eyes, crisply minted yellow. Dull like a good luck charm, rubbed between finger and thumb in a pocket for many, many years. Each of them searching me with unknowable intent, the way you stare down a microscope.

Every eye of the dragon focused on me, and as one, they blinked.

_I see you._

_  
_

* * *

  


Any day where I don’t wake up with pain is a good day, but nightmares weren’t much better. 

Groaning at the shrill alarm clock beeping next to my bed, I slapped it asleep again. It was my day off, I wasn’t going to leave my cool smooth sheets for anything except the apocalypse.

Six months had passed since that first assignment with Cinder.

When I finally did wake up properly, I hung around my apartment with a few cups of coffee and cooked myself breakfast, thinking about all the chores that needed to be done and how much I didn’t want to do them.

So instead I put on a t-shirt and some jeans and jogged down to the parking garage where I kept my cars. 

Junior paid the annual fees for the entire floor so any of his boys could use it for their rides, or possibly borrow the keys to someone else’s if they worked out a deal beforehand. No one touched my cars, though. Except Yang.

Cars were relaxing. It didn’t compare to making a new weapon, but those were too expensive. Unless someone was specifically commissioning me, I didn’t have the resources to create whatever I wanted. Cars, however, were cheaper. And once you fix them up to a certain point you can sell them. 

Yang always stressed the importance of having enough “fuck you” money in the bank to turn down jobs from Junior if we ever felt uncomfortable with it.

Once, I dabbled with the idea of quitting and going back to Patch. Opening up a garage, and being my own boss— yadda yadda yadda. It didn’t pan out. Few things ever did.

There wasn’t even enough time to get my hands dirty before I heard footsteps approaching. The floor was private of course, so I knew it’d be someone from the crew, but was not prepared for the simmering disappointment and frustration of seeing my partner Violet.

“Oh, great,” I said, and rolled underneath the carriage of my newest project.

“Hiii, Newbie,” she sang to me, hooking a foot around my knee and dragging me back out. 

Arms crossed over my chest, I lay flat on the creeper, expression stony.

“Don’t look so happy to see me. Malachites told me you might be here.” 

Of course they did. Two deadly sisters, always joined at the hip, always hovering wherever Junior went. No one really knew who gave the orders and who took them in that relationship, but the three were seldom apart and held equal amounts of authority.

“I told them I don’t take jobs on Saturdays.”

“Still,” Violet said, offering me a hand. “You could have at least picked up your scroll.”

After a moment, I accepted it, letting her pull me up. “I left it at home. What’s going on?”

“We have a potential contract, and they want you specifically. Among a few others.”

That wasn’t so unusual, except when people asked for me it was because they also wanted my sister. Rather than renting me out for a day, I’d be a part of a big pack, a wall of muscle between the client and any real or perceived threats. Contracts could last anywhere from half a month to the better part of a year.

I’m scrawny and baby-faced, so I don’t actually make a convincing bodyguard, as dangerous as I am. Violet fit the profile better than I did, which is probably why we kept getting paired together after that first assignment with Cinder six months previously. Tattoos crawled up her neck to lick the sides of her face, and she had crazy eyes, red like cherry pits. 

We worked surprisingly well together once she shaped up a bit and followed my orders. She kept away the meek by virtue of looking dangerous while I hovered in the background, ready for anything not easily scared away.

“Newbie, you’re my girl,” Violet said, “Hook me up with you in the contract. Tell them you need me too, like when you were always paired up with Dragon.” 

Yang. 

“They only need you for like a month,” Violet continued, “But if we get this contract, we’re set for the rest of the _year_. Maybe even next year.”

My lips thinned in displeasure. “...How much?”

Violet gave me an impressive number. 

I faltered. “What? For us two?”

“No, I read the contracts when the Malachites weren’t looking. It’s you and four others. They’re on rank with Dragon. Don’t have to wear the uniforms if they don’t want to.”

“I get it. And since you’re my trustworthy and loyal partner…”

She clasped her hands together in prayer. “Yes. Yes! Please? Please, Ruby! Pleeease!”

“You begging won’t sway my mind either way.” Still, I was considering the offer. That amount of money would be more than enough to possibly begin looking for another apartment. And if Violet was set, then I wouldn’t be put on any missions with her for a while. “Let’s meet the customer first before deciding anything. Where are we needed?”

She grinned. “The bar, three o’clock. So?”

Plenty of time to play around here a bit longer, then take a shower and head out. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it.” Setting back down on the creeper with a huff, I rolled back underneath the car. 

To my surprise, Violet stuck around in order to hang out with me for a bit. We tended to not associate outside “business hours”. “They pay a lot for you cause you have a hunting license, right?”

Half of my mind was still on the task at hand, not accustomed to conversation during work. I wasn’t doing real maintenence, just some fine tuning and an oil change. “Umm… Yes.”

“I thought being a huntress was a til death do you part thing.”

“They let you retire if you pay back your debt to humanity.” A squirt of oil hit me right on the face. “Or something.”

“What was it like?” I could see Violet’s boots pace near the car, excitement edging in her voice. “Tell me more about it.”

Allowing myself to be a little vulnerable after knowing she couldn’t see my face, I searched my dirty palms for answers, wondering how best to respond. I was filthy now, up to the elbows in black pitch and grime. “...It sucked.”

She seemed crestfallen. “Really?” And didn’t ask any more questions for a while, just letting me work in silence. 

After a while she asked if I would mind listening to some music and I agreed, since we had similar tastes and it would fill the air with something other than all the questions I knew still burned in her. 

Once it grew closer to the hour, I took another car and we drove to the bar. Slouched in the passenger seat, she sat with her eyes closed and her shades resting on her forehead, looking peaceful. I thought she was taking a nap, but then her cherry pit eyes blinked open and she blurted out, “Was it cause you had to kill people?”

“What,” I said, “You’ve never killed anyone working for Junior?”

“Of course not,” she said. “We’re not the White Fang. If we went around killing people… So wait, you didn’t answer the question?” She was getting better at dodging the misdirections.

“There were times when I had to help people by hurting others. Not too different from what we do now.” Except I get paid for it now. “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, you’re too nice for stuff like that.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Being a huntress is a nasty system for someone who doesn’t like taking orders,” I said. “You have freedom to move around wherever you want, take whatever you need, do whatever you want. But wherever you were, you couldn’t refuse assignments.” 

It made me think about Yang, how stubborn she was. There were times she said no to Junior’s missions just to remind herself she could. Even when we could have used the extra money.

“Did you ever get tested?” I asked Violet. “When you were little?”

Violet averted her eyes. “Ah, no. My parents were scared. They were both immune, and I was their only kid.”

That made sense. Most of the population was not immune, but going in for testing to confirm it made you eligible for certain government benefits. The only drawback was any immune child under ten years of age got drafted. 

“Me neither, not officially.” I put a hand to my ribs, rubbing at the bandages wrapped up tight underneath my clothes. “Turned out I wasn’t, at first. But I developed immunity after getting bit a bunch. I was uh. Twelve? Twelve, I think.”

“And then?”

“I volunteered.”

I licked my lips, suddenly dry.

“Are you hungry?” I rolled my head over to her, eyebrows rising. 

“Tacos,” she said immediately. “There’s a nice food truck on the way.”

“No eating inside the car,” I warned her. "Eat now if you can't wait til we bring it to the bar." So when we found the food truck she stepped outside to grab it, scarfing hers real quick while ordering mine to go. 

I idled nearby, the windows rolled down so I could dangle an arm out the side, blinking up at the autumn sky. It was bright day, sunny, with only the wind reminding me of the winter chills to come. 

Then, a short series of dry pops. 

Sitting straighter and retreating inside my car, I glanced over to see Violet crouching near a picnic table, her food scattered. Her eyes locked with mine. Lunging across the front seat, I wrestled open the passenger door and gestured inside, just as everyone else in the world caught up with us and I heard the first scream.

“Get over here! Get in the car!” I shouted as staccato gunfire resonated across the city square. Not needing to be told twice, Violet ducked low and squeezed inside. She cramped herself up in the footspace under the glove compartment, her legs sprawled on the seat rest to keep her head and upper body away from any of the windows.

Just as she was about to pull the door closed, somebody else hopped inside as well. Some skinny blond guy, slamming the door behind him and frantically locking it shut. Reacting on instinct, I pulled a pistol out from where I kept it strapped to the driver’s side door. “Who the hell are you?” I demanded, keeping the gun out of sight. “Out!”

“Just drive!” The stranger ducked his head low too, covering a pair of round faunus ears with his hands and shouting, “Drive! Drive drive drive drive,  _they’re gonna kill me_!”

“Sounds like a plan to me! Go partner, go!” Violet said, kicking me soundly until I holstered the gun and tore out of the area as fast as I could.

Three red lights come and go, a chorus of angry horns following me as I thought over where we could go next. Who had been firing? Were they going to give chase? 

Who the hell was this faunus in my passenger seat?

“Violet, get in the backseat,” I ground out between clenched teeth. Daring to slow down once I realized nobody was tailing us, I gave the faunus a hard look. “Put on your seatbelt.”

He had his arms around his knees, curled up into a small ball on the passenger side out of fear and to give Violet room to hop on over. “Wh-what?” he said, trembling all over.

“Seatbelt!” I said, shifting gear and speeding up so suddenly he was jerked backwards. “Or I throw you out.”

“I’d do it,” Violet said, already strapped in. “She gets cranky about car safety.”

The stranger licked his lips, pale blue eyes locked onto me. “Okay,” he said, cautiously buckling his seatbelt. “Okay. Thank you. Thank you for helping me.”

Rolling my eyes, I return my attention to the road. “Where do you want to go?”

After a lot of fumbling, the stranger pulled a scroll out of his jean pockets and tapped out an address, linking it to my car. “All Roads Auto Repair. That’s where I work, it’s safe, it’s outside their turf.”

Violet voiced my thoughts. “Whose turf? Who’d you piss off?”

The stranger sunk lower in his seat, covering his face with both hands. “S-some faunus gang.” Sitting up straight again, he gave me a panicked look. “But I’m not in a gang! It has nothing to do with me— they think I’m with my brother, probably. He runs with a bad crowd and I’m always hanging around him so—”

“Mhm,” I said.

“It’s true! I’m not—!”

A loud crinkling noise sounded from the backseat, making us both jump. Twisting around once, I frowned deeply to see Violet unrolling a taco from a paper bag she’d carted along with her. 

“What?” she said, pausing with the food already halfway into her mouth. “I eat when I’m stressed.”

“The whole car is going to smell like onions now,” I said, complaining under my breath the whole drive there. It didn’t take very long, and the faunus let us in through the locked back gate. The business was closed for the day, so no one was around when we rolled inside and the garage door closed behind us.

He got out of the car first, knees wobbling as he went to go lean against another car parked there. It was gutted and stripped, either someone’s pet project or being cannibalized for parts to repair other vehicles. “Ohh,” he groaned, bending over and wheezing. “Oh, god. They were really gonna kill us. I have to tell Sun!”

Another voice joined in. “Tell me what?”

“Sun!!!”

Up on a loft that I hadn’t noticed, a shirtless faunus guy leaned against a rickety set of railings, yawning hugely and rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Hi, Jaune. You woke me up. Who are your friends?”

“My frien—” Jaune looked to us, helplessly gesturing once, and I realized none of us had exchanged names. “Right. My friends. My good friends…?” He gestured again.

“I’m Ruby,” I said. Jerking a thumb over my shoulder, I pointed out Violet. “My partner, Violet. Jaune seemed to be in trouble so we helped him out.”

Stomping one foot, Jaune’s ears flattened against his skull. They were small and nubby enough to disappear right into his hair. “Huh! That’s a nice way of putting it!” When he started to climb the stairs up to the loft, taking them two at a time, I noticed a matching tail swaying behind him, a tufted tip flicking from side to side with anger. When he reached Sun, Jaune grabbed him and shook him. “I got chased down by a bunch of crazies and it’s all your fault!”

Not fully awake yet, Sun just whined and pushed him away. “What? Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been here all day. Sleeping,” he added with a pointed look.

“Because— Wait, let me guess. You were up allllll night,” Jaune said, “pouring sugar into every gastank of every motorcycle at the Hellhound!”

That made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I wasn’t involved with faunus street politics, but everyone knew to stay away from that bar. It was rumored White Fang officers held their meetings in the basement. 

Clearing my throat, I stepped in. “That sugar thing is an urban legend, you know,” I said. “At worst, they’ll need a new fuel filter. It doesn’t caramelize the engine.”

“Oh, I know!” Sun just clapped a hand over his face and started laughing. “But they sure didn’t! So they bought it?” he asked, looking delighted.

Jaune put both his hands on his head, dragging his palms down his face. “Yes, Sun! They bought it! They threw a bunch of empty sugar bags at my feet and then they tried to kill me!”

“Pffft.” Sun’s tail waved behind him, idly flexing. “Don’t be dramatic. Did they rough you up or something?”

“Oh no,” Violet said, unwrapping another taco. “He’s not exaggerating at all. They were firing at him in public.” Making a pistol with her fingers, she blew out her cheeks, imitating a gunshot. 

For a moment, Sun still seemed to be waiting for the punchline. 

And then when a fist loudly banged on the corrugated steel gate to the shop, we all froze. 

“Let us in, Sun!” an oddly familiar voice shouted out. “We know you’re in there! Come out!”

Sun went deathly pale underneath his tan. “You,” he said, “Y-you weren’t kidding.”

Jaune just slapped the back of Sun’s head before scrambling back down the stairs. “Come on, this way,” he said, taking my hand and trying to drag me off. “There’s another exit. If we leave on foot—”

I shook him off. “They probably have the exits covered. The fact that they aren’t just driving by and shooting up the place is a good sign.” I walked back to my car, opening the driver’s door and finding my pistol again, tucking it into the waistband of my jeans. “You already said this is outside their territory, so maybe they won’t cause trouble unless they have to.”

_Oh, what have I gotten myself into?_

I gestured to Sun, still hovering by the loft. “Open up the gates.”

He hesitated for just a second before running along the loft, slamming a fist over a big red button. As soon as there was enough clearance, it became immediately evident how we hadn’t heard anyone drive up. The motorcycles were Snowy Owl brand, completely silent engines, very expensive.

Very familiar.

“Oh,” I said out loud, relaxing against the side of my car in a careless lean. I crossed my arms, smiling fully for the first time in a while. “This should be good.”

“Define good,” Jaune hissed at me. 

But I let the situation explain, more or less, for itself. 

The faunus gang leader rolled up, taking point and scanning the room before her eyes landed on me. Tension rippled through the others, three other bikes, each with two riders, all of them armed.

I waved at the leader. “Hiii, Lou,” I said, grinning without any warmth.

She cut the engine, getting to her feet and bristling at me. Only one ear pricked up on the top of her skull, the other docked in half and drooping. “What the hell are you doing here? Junior’s club is on the other side of town.”

Reaching behind me, I patted my car. The hollow thumps carried through the airspace around us, the whole shop silent as the grave. “I came to get some spare parts. What are you doing here?”

“None of your business.”

A little bit of venom dropped into my voice. “If you hurt my suppliers, it might be my business.”

Well, Lou didn’t have much to say to that. Circling around, Violet came to stand next to me and Jaune, and thankfully she’d stashed the tacos somewhere else. Flicking her sunglasses out of her chest pocket, she slid them on and gave me a small nudge. “Okay, partner, you’re gonna have to fill me in here. You know these guys?”

“Lou is just an old friend. We worked together every now and then.” I tilted my head to the side. “So now, she’s going to leave before I decide we’re not friendly anymore. Right, Lou?”

“You don’t scare me,” Lou spat, an inhuman growl building deep in her chest. “Everyone knows the Dragon’s dead. Without her, you’re nobody.”

Pursing my lips, I let out a long, low breath. Immediately, my body temperature dropped, all my Aura concentrated in my legs.

When I inhaled, I stepped, and by the time my breath was done I had crossed the yards between us. In an instant, an eyeblink for everyone else. 

I gave her another smile, my pistol barrel jammed up underneath Lou’s chin.

“Dragon’s not the one who docked your ear, Lou,” I reminded her, digging the metal in a little harder to make my point.

A row of barrels immediately locked onto me, every faunus putting me in their sights. I could see Lou’s pulse jumping on her neck, right underneath the skin. And from above, I heard the mechanical _kachah_ of a shotgun getting loaded, Sun taking aim at us below. Certainly, I knew Violet had her gun drawn as well.

“I’m not scared of you,” Lou said again.

“But you’re scared of dying.” 

Taking another step closer, I brought us chest to chest, and I stared into her eyes, unblinking.

“Ask me if I’m scared of death, Lou.”

Slowly, she lifted her hand up until she could grasp my wrist. And then, inch by inch, she dragged my hand down, a growl escaping from her open mouth. “Tell Roman he's not the only one hiring muscle,” Lou said. "He’s going to need a lot more than just Junior’s boys for what we have in store.”

_Wait, what?_

Hiding my confusion, I don’t say a word as Lou shoved me off. Throwing a leg over her bike, she lets loose a terrifying howl, her yellow eyes piercing me before she and her people rode off on eerily silent engines.

I rubbed my forehead against the headache that was beginning to form. “Jaune,” I said, not turning around. “Please don’t tell me you work for a guy named Roman Torchwick.”

Sun answered for him. “We do.” I looked up to see him unloading his shotgun, still pale as a ghost. “This is his shop. You’re one of the people joining us on the run?” His eyes swept over us, perhaps registering now the suit and tie Violet wore. “You’re Junior’s— uh— people?”

I remembered the meeting I was trying to get to, the client who was interested in hiring me on without Dragon— without Yang. “I think I might be.”

“You are?” Jaune asked, incredulous. At first I couldn’t find him, until I noticed him still ducked behind the busted up old car. The pistol in his grip wasn’t small by any means, but still an ill-fit for his large hands. “I-I just hopped into the first car I saw!”

“Lucky you,” I said.

Unwrapping her lunch again, Violet perched on the hood of my car. “He’d better hope Roman’s hiring us,” she said. “Otherwise he owes us two thousand lien apiece.”

“Two _thousand_?” Jaune yelped, standing up straight.

“Mm,” I agreed. “For driving, protection— potentially severing old relationships— plus you’ve got the late booking fees on top of that, since this was last minute.” I looked up at him, giving him a crooked grin. “What, did you think I was protecting you for free, lion boy?”

“Are you…” Not responding for a moment, Jaune seemed a little unsteady on his feet as he walked over to us. He opened his mouth, then closed it, shaking his head. Hunching over in utter defeat, he nodded his head over to Violet. “...You gonna… finish that?”

“Nah, you can have it,” Violet said, handing him the last taco.  



	5. I Thought I Had Nothing Left To Lose

* * *

  


“Okay, whatever,” I said. “Violet, we’re going to be late for our meeting.” Opening up the car door for my partner, I impatiently motioned her inside. “Jaune, if Roman’s our contractor we’ll just forget about your fees.”  


Jaune blanched. “And if he’s not?”

“Well,” I grinned at him, slamming the door shut after Violet. “I’ll know where to find you, won’t I?”

We got to Junior’s place a little late, to no one’s surprise. My partner waited down by the bar while I went up to my apartment and freshened up. A shower rinsed the day off, and a fresh set of bandages around my torso hid the bite marks. It made me feel a little bit closer to human again.

Toweling myself dry, I nudged open the door to the walk-in closet and started rummaging around for one of my nicer suits. 

The closet was not solely mine; after Yang left, I took over her room because it was larger.  


I liked my room well enough, but after six months alone I moved in. I don’t know why. Maybe I did it out of spite. 

Now it was twelve months along, one whole year since Yang had left me, and I was wondering what I’d do with all her stuff.

But it wasn’t a miracle or anything— it wasn’t serendipitous— wasn’t anything but an accident when I rustled past Yang’s jacket to grab my own and something heavy fell from the pockets. The metal clacked against dark wooden floor, cracking loud like a gunshot.

“Oh,” I said, upon seeing what it was.

A custom-made lighter, a gift from one of Yang’s old lovers. It lasted much longer than the relationship had; this was Yang’s favorite lighter, in fact. It hadn’t ever crossed my mind to look for it after Yang vanished. She never went anywhere without this thing, yet here it was.

It was shaped like a brass knuckle, heavy enough to be functional if you weren’t too concerned about breaking it. I clenched it in my fist, not fitting my fingers through the grip but around it. What was it doing here? How long had it been waiting for someone to find it? Did it even work anymore?

I flicked it on, and the flame shot up straight as a needle. The metal smooth, worn from a dozen hundred subconscious, repetitive movements. My sister’s thumb idly rubbing against the grip when she was anxious or angry, flicking it on to light a stranger’s cigarette, twirling it from a keychain.

Where was she?

The closet still smelled of her. Expensive, butter-soft leather and cheap cigarettes. Rich and pungent, bitter menthol, coppery, salty blood. I held onto her jacket, feeling pathetic yet unable to stop. Waiting for the empty space to fill with a body, solid and strong and tall as a tree.

She was the only family I had left. My only blood. And she left me, she left me. She left me.

A clean suit could be better than armor when dealing with strange clients, the glasses bridging my nose as a reflective shield. When I started dressing myself I felt a little better, my eyes burning with unshed tears. Even though I hadn’t cried since I was a child, I wanted to. I tried, willing my eyes to well up and spill, but nothing happened except a continuous reminder of all I had lost.

They said crying made you human, but it had always given me trouble. Now I wasn’t even a human, not anymore. Probably not ever again.

I clutched the jacket one last time and then went downstairs to meet the client.

My bosses were reclining against the bar, conversing quietly when I arrived. Those three couldn’t be more different if they tried; Junior being taller than your average bear and just as smart, and his Malachites small and glittering and beautiful like the knives you never took out of the display case.

The twin sisters felt it as soon as I looked at them. A huntress thing, I think. But they knew they were being watched and their attention immediately snapped to me, assessing me in an instant. 

“Hey, Newbie,” the twins chorused, smiling bowstring-tight. 

They were trained by a different group than me, bought their way out of the job. Left dirt broke afterwards, they wound up here, like Yang and I. Most Huntresses turn to similar professions. Mercenaries, bounty hunters, bodyguards. It’s all we knew how to do. It’s all we wanted to do.

“Hey,” I said. “Where’s Violet?”

“Told her to beat it,” Junior said. “She isn’t the one the client wants.”

“You are. And you’re late,” Melanie said.

“How weird, even for you," Miltia said.

Melanie followed up without pause, each volley struck out like they planned it. “Did you want to get pretty for your girlfriend? You did a bad job.”

In an instant they had flanked me. Scoping out my appearance, picking apart my outfit. “You should have worn a skirt.” Melanie tsked. “She’s out of your league, you know. Act more like you give a shit.”

I slapped her hands away. “What are you two babbling about?”

“Cinder, duh! The client that you saved from the Scabs!” they said. “She likes you,” Miltia added. “She asked for our best but then asked for you by name, and it wasn’t because she needed a driver or an engineer.”

Unwinding myself from their presence, I shuffled closer to Junior, seeking backup. “It’s not like that,” I said. 

“I’m gonna have to agree with Newbie,” Junior said. His grumble was reassuring. “You two are off this time. If she wanted the kid, she wouldn’t have waited six months to come back for her.”

Melanie scoffed. “We are never off. Call it women’s intuition.”

“Ten lien says she’ll offer you a raise if you promise to do her.”

My face lit up with a blush. “Will you two stop? Just take me to the client, if she’s still here.”

“She’s waiting in Junior’s office,” Melanie said. Her eyebrows rose up in emphasis. “Waiting for you, even though she could just as easily have sent you a scroll message.”

“Red flag number one, right there.”

There was no use disagreeing with these two. Covering my face, I rushed past them, not waiting for them to finish. Hopefully I could brush off my tomato face to poor lighting. 

I knew who would be in there, but she still took me by surprise. My heart exploded outward at the sight of her, the leftover parts wriggling in my ribcage. Cinder was standing, nails clicking on the screen of her scroll. She hadn’t changed much in the six months since our last meeting, but she was dressed conservatively today. The red dress had been swapped out for black work clothes.  Her eyes darted up to the sound of the door opening, and when she saw me her face brightened with a smile.

“Hello, Ruby,” she said, and it felt like cold fingers down my back.

I closed the door behind me. “Nice to see you, ma’am. Wasn’t sure you’d ask for me again, considering how our last parting went.”

She snapped her scroll shut, eyebrow quirking upward. “Don’t worry, I’m not here for revenge.” Lifting up the hem of her long black skirt, she tucked her folded scroll into a holster on her outer thigh. “My interest in you today is strictly professional. I need help moving some cargo.”

My throat tightened. “Okay.” 

“I just sent you the details on your scroll. Take a look at them, please.” 

And on cue, my scroll started buzzing. It looked like a normal Dust shipment to me; we had guarded those before, transporting them to and from the docks. “Sounds simple enough. What’s the catch?”

“I need to get this cargo to Vacuo,” she said. “By land.”

You could hear a pin drop in that silence. 

“That’s a suicide mission,” I said, instantly putting two and two together. “Are you trying to evade the shipping fees? Do yourself a favor and just pay whatever jacked up price the boat captains are asking. It’s safer than trying to go through Grimm territory.”

Cinder shook her head. “I appreciate the concern, but I wasn’t asking for advice. I need a huntress.”

“I’m not a huntress,” I reminded her sharply. “I’m a driver.”

I’m sure someone else would have taken that as a sound refusal and sent me on my way. But Cinder’s eyes glowed in approval, taking the challenge and running with it. Striding over to me in a few quick steps, she reached out, grabbed me by the tie and pulled me down to her eye level. 

She still needed to arch up just a bit, to the tips of her toes, in order to press a kiss to my cheek.

“So take me for a ride,” she said, her other hand fondly stroking up my neck, fingers rasping against the fresh buzz of my undercut.

  


* * *

  


Cinder gave me directions to a warehouse. We arrived in no time, and Cinder even wore her seatbelt to appease me. “Just let me see your operations,” I told her, “and then maybe—  _maybe—_  I’ll sign on with you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I gave the steering wheel a reflexive squeeze before getting out and opening up Cinder’s door, offering her a hand out. She accepted it, and I was glad that I had taken the time to wear my gloves that day. I wasn’t sure how I would be able to handle any more of her touching my bare skin.

Something about it made my whole body buzz.

We entered through a side door into the massive storage facility. On Cinder’s instructions, I popped open one of the crates with a crowbar, and let out a low whistle at what I saw inside.

“That is a lot of Dust.”

“Mhmm.” Cinder leaned against one of the support beams, her arms crossed as she gave me a tight-lipped, satisfied smile.

And there were stacks and piles of the stuff. The whole unit was filled to bursting.

“So this is what you do.” Explains why she was in Vacuo for so long.

“It’s a tough business. Especially in a field where you’re going against the big names, like Schnee, or Sustrai. But I like the challenge.”

It was all starting to add up. Lou had mentioned Roman was buying muscle all over town, and what was one of the first things Cinder had said to him, six months ago? That she wanted to start up “operations” again. Frowning deeply, I held the crowbar in one hand, thoughtfully tapping it against my open palm. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this,” I said, surveying the Dust. “You have some kind of… trade route, some path you follow outside the cities where it’s safe to travel.”

She didn’t confirm or deny, just shrugged loosely.

“But it’s not safe, no matter how many times you’ve done it.” I tried to press it in, make her see reason. She had to understand what she was doing was crazy. “There’s a reason you need training to go outside the city, fight Scabs.”

“Says the girl who protected me with nothing but a combat knife.”

“That was only one Scab in an apartment building,” I told her, irritated. “Out in the wilds it’s a totally different story.”

“No need to be modest.” She pulled a silver cigarette case from her purse, plucking one from within. “I hired you for a reason, you know. Let’s get out of here so I can smoke.”

I rolled my eyes. “You haven’t hired me yet,” I said, but we went outside so she could have a cigarette away from all the Dust and continue our conversation.

When we were a safe distance away, I offered Yang’s lighter to her. She didn’t take it but instead leaned forward, the cigarette pressed between her lips. Without prompting, I lit it for her, watched the ember brighten with her first drag. It hadn’t struck me until then that it was such an intimate thing to do.

“Tell me more about your career,” Cinder prompted, blowing out a stream of blue grey smoke. “You must have been a very good huntress. You’ve got a big heart, under your grumpiness.”

Jeez. It was impossible to maintain any kind of image around here.

I played with the lighter’s hood. It swung on its hinge, squeaking lightly. “My whole family was in the business. Yang— my sister— was apprenticing with our aunt Raven. But my parents didn’t want me to do it. I wasn’t immune, and huntressing isn’t what it used to be.”

Cinder averted her eyes, disappointment clear in her expression. “You’re telling me. I’m a bit of a drop out, myself.”

“I _knew_ you had a bit of formal training,” I said, unable to keep myself from grinning. Pointing at her, I started prodding for more. “Spill. Quid pro quo.”

What a wicked smirk she had. “There’s nothing to spill. Huntressing just wasn’t for me.” The rim around the filter was stained pink from her lips. “I wanted to fight Grimm.”

That didn’t explain how she went civilian, but I wasn’t going to pry. There were only two ways you escaped that life— you worked yourself to dismemberment, or you paid your way out of it. Considering her reckless ambition for money, I had a suspicion she was trying to clear out some outstanding debts. “Not too many Grimm left to hunt,” I said. “But Raven did go after them from time to time. She was trained classically.”

“Not you, though.”

I shook my head. “Not lucky enough to get a mentor. Got shuffled into a group with a bunch of other recruits.”

“Yang taught you a thing or two anyway, didn’t she?”

“Yeah. We spent time together whenever we could. Yang unlocked my aura, too. It helps me with the uh…”  That was when I realized this was the most I had enjoyed talking to anyone in a very, very long time. After that, I was resolute on keeping quiet, but Cinder had a way of making me forget to shut up. “Well, I was never able to focus it into a proper semblance. Just hoarded a bunch of useless, cheap tricks.”

Humming in disagreement, Cinder let the cigarette fall, crushing it underneath her heel. “You have the makings of a semblance. Just needs a little fine tuning.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t have a semblance. Not like you,” I said, suddenly feeling very shy, and just a bit defensive. “When we were fighting the Scab, you… you set fires. Just like Yang.”

“Oh?” she said. “Was hers like this?” To demonstrate, Cinder held out both her hands, palms up. Her eyes glowed, Grimm-yellow. Her suit, which had appeared simple solid black, lit up in intricate and familiar patterns. She must have had a bit of classical training herself, I realized. Weaving Dust into your body or your clothes was almost unheard of in this day and age. 

Two spires of flame spouted upwards from her palms, pillars held up by the force of her whim. After a moment, she clenched her fists shut and the fires extinguished in an anguished puff.

“No,” I was forced to admit. “Her fire was just sorta like… I don’t know, leftovers.”

“I had a feeling that was a case. What I do is just a result of the Dust I use,” Cinder said. “I’m sure if I had something with an earth aspect on me, I’d start sprouting stalagmites.” After a pause, she asked, “What was Yang’s semblance?”

“Reverberation. The harder you hit her, the harder she hit you back. Made her invincible.”

“And also started fires.” She laughed. “That says a lot about her. All semblances do.” And then, carefully projecting her movement so I would have time to respond, she took my hand. I let her, let her take the black leather and peel it free so that our skin touched. I didn’t pull away. “Like a fingerprint, completely unique.” She rubbed my fingerpads between hers, teasing me.

So either I was imagining things, or she was still into me. Or she was using me to try and find out more about Yang. I knew I was definitely starting to get a crush on her. After all, most people only ever wanted to get close to me because I was the Dragon’s sister. 

“Cinder,” I said, keeping my gaze focused on our hands, “You know you’re out of my league, right?”

“You don’t get to decide that for me,” she said.

When she put my glove back on for me, I knew that I would drive her back to her hotel, and that I would sign a contract with her. I knew that I would probably do anything she wanted me to do as long as it meant she would touch me like that again.

Then I remembered what the Malachites had said, about offering myself for a higher price, and my stomach sank. On top of that, Cinder still hadn’t explained how she knew about my last name. There was something here she wasn’t telling me, something she was keeping secret. 

Something wasn’t adding up.

I pulled my hand free, taking a few careful steps away from her. My mouth dry, I managed to say, “Is there somewhere else you’d like me to take you now?”

“Yes, please,” she said. “The library, downtown.”

That was odd, but not the oddest thing I’d heard her say. We drove in a silence that was not at all uncomfortable, and again I got the sense that I had known her for longer than I could recall. She opened her own door, walking around the car to lean through my window and kiss my cheek again. It felt safer with a steel door between us.

“I can walk to my hotel from here, Ruby. Go home and think about my contract— sleep on it. Give me a call tomorrow if you change your mind.”

I said something that might have been agreement, and then waited for her to go inside the library before I took off. 

  


* * *

  


This was too much.

I paced the floors of my apartment, restlessness making my blood fizzy. Weighing options was something I thought I was good at, but nothing about this was clear cut, no matter which way I looked at it. No risk versus gain.

“Okay, Newbie,” I said to myself, going into my room. My real room, the one I had slept in when Yang still lived here. It was a cramped space, the way I liked it, and filled with all my tools and toys. I rummaged around with shaking hands until I found an old prototype and a screwdriver. Tossing the screwdriver in my hand, I plopped down on the floor and began dismantling the gun.

“She knows your last name used to be Rose,” I said. “She knows you were a huntress. That means maybe she knows what you did, she’s probably trying to gang press you back into being a huntress because it’s obvious I’m still physically fit for duty.”

The metal plating clacked onto the floor, all the Dust capacitors exposed to my eyes. Under my bed, I got out my more delicate tools. 

“But if she were an agent here trying to peg me as an AWOL huntress then she wouldn’t tip her hand like this, would she? She wouldn’t have come back. She would have gone straight to the Center and reported me as a piece of shit deserter six months ago.”

I wished Yang were here. I needed someone to talk to who wasn’t me.

“Ah!” I slammed a fist down onto the floor. “But that doesn’t add up. Why would she try to hire me? Maybe she’s going to use it as insurance. Hey, Newbie, don’t tell anyone about my illegal Dust enterprise and I won’t tell the Center there’s a rogue agent in Vale who hasn’t paid her debts yet!”

No, no, no. I was overthinking this. I hadn’t given her, or anyone else, reason to believe I hadn’t paid my debts. The only people who had any reason to suspect it were the Malachites. They knew that life, and they hired me anyway. It wasn’t like they were the most scrupulous of employers.

I had been safe. I didn’t share my life with anyone. Didn’t give anyone fuel to use against me, while I waited for Yang to come back. 

I paused, the prototype in front of me stripped down to its core, all the pieces laid out before me. All the wiring exposed.

Setting down my tools, I slumped backwards against my bed frame. 

“I can’t keep waiting for Yang to come back.”

It sounded like someone else’s voice, but I knew that couldn’t be true.

Nobody was here except me.

By the time I finished rebuilding the gun, it was three in the morning. I sent Cinder a text message through our scrolls, not wanting to call her and wake her up. In a few moments, though, she had responded.

 _I want to sign on with you,_ I told her.

_Come by my hotel and pick me up tomorrow night at eight._


	6. There Were Two Of Them

For a few hours, I tried to sleep. When that didn’t work, I went to the library. While not terribly familiar with the one in downtown Vale, I liked the way it felt. When you step inside a good library all the noise gets suctioned out behind you, hermetically sealed when the doors whispered shut. 

Taking off my glasses and tucking them into my chest pocket, I looked around, wondering where to start.

“Need any help?”

A very friendly, very tall clerk at the front desk waved to me.

“Just looking around, I guess,” I told him. My hand sneaked down to my other pocket, feeling around for the spinner ring. I took it out, whirring it as quietly as I could in the silence. “Not sure where anything is.”

His grin widened. “It’s a big library.”

This would probably go smoother if I pretended I was here on an assignment; stepping closer to the desk, I mentally shuffled through what I would say next. “A lot bigger than the one in my home town. You worked here long?”

The clerk, obviously bored and with nothing to do, leaned forward on the front desk and rested on it. “Eh? I guess? It’s been about four years now.”

“Cool.” I licked my lips. “So hey, how do I uh… check out books? Dumb question, I know.”

“No such thing as a dumb question. Librarians love questions.” Gesturing for me to come closer, he held up a personal tablet. “Take your scroll and bump it here. It’ll transfer your name and address and the computer spits out a card in five minutes. Easy peasy.” When I handed over my information, he started tapping away at the little tablet. “You’ll get a digital version on your scroll as well. Then you can use the terminal over there to check out five books at a time. Ding!” He set it down, winking at me. “Or you can check out through me if you’re anti-tech. It gets lonely over here.”

I shook my head. “Then you’ll see all the trashy romance titles I’m reading.”

Still smiling, he pressed a finger to his lips. “I’ll keep it secret.”

There was a rush of air as the front doors opened, rowdy voices draining away the silence. I ignored it, wondering if I’d be too obvious if I pressed the clerk for more information. “You don’t keep track of the books you lend people?”

“Mm.” He frowned, eyes flicking aside as though he wanted to roll them but was raised too politely to do so. “Of course, we gotta. Why? Trying to steal a book?”

“Trying to figure out what someone else is reading, actually.” The spinner ring buzzed under my hand. “There’s this girl who goes here and I want to impress her.” I tucked a hand behind my neck, rubbing it ruefully. “You know, get into her hobbies. So we have stuff in common to talk about.”

The clerk’s expression darkened, looking devious. “You hound.” The computer dinged; snatching the ID card, the clerk waved it around, steam wafting up from the still-hot plastic. “Listen, if you like this girl, just talk to her. Ask her what’s on her bookshelf, then come back and borrow it from us.” He handed me the card. “All right?”

Shoot.

“All right,” I said, pocketing the card. “What was your name?”

“Neptune Vasilias,” he said. “You?”

“Ruby Xiao Long,” I said, shaking his hand firmly.

 

* * *

 

Idling outside Cinder’s hotel with my third cup of coffee in my hands, I wondered exactly how long I was going to go without sleeping when I heard a sharp clatter against my window. The cup nearly went all over my lap as I jumped, startled. Cinder tapped the glass again with the tips of her nails, and I rolled the window down to be greeted by a dazzling smile.

“Aren’t you going to get the door for me?” she teased, reaching through to stroke my bangs out of my face with a quick swipe of her claws. “You did every other time.”

“Didn’t see you there,” I muttered, getting out and standing up. Cinder took a step back to accommodate me, crossing her arms and smiling thinly now, eyes narrowing like a pleased cat. A tight sheath of black lace covered her from wrist to mid-thigh, transparent over the arms and in a small diamond on her chest. There was a small area of flesh between the hem of her dress and her stockings, drawing my eyes downward every time I tried to look away. “You look good.”

“Of course I do.”

When she turned, I could see another diamond, not just transparent but cut to frame a tattoo on her back. A pleased little shiver rolled down my spine before I could help myself. Following Cinder around the car, I opened the door for her with a sharp tug, leaning down to smirk at her. “Arrogance isn’t cute.”

She patted my cheek. “Neither is being a mouthy brat.” Looking annoyed, briefly, I wondered if she was going to follow it up with something sharper. Instead she flicked her tongue over her nails, combing my hair again. “If you’re going to work for me, we need to invest in some hair gel,” she murmured before getting into the car.

Before we took off, I drained the rest of the coffee. “Where are we going tonight?” I asked. Cinder had a clutch purse, just big enough for her scroll. Tapping and scraping her nails along it, she sent me the address to an expensive steakhouse. “A business dinner, then.”

“Hopefully,” she said, tucking her loose black hair over one ear. “All this Dust is useless if we don’t have buyers set up.”

I scoffed. “There’s always buyers for Dust.”

“For Dust in bulk,” she clarified. “And since we aren’t paying any shipping fees for the boats, we get… well, almost 100% of the profit.”

“That’s how you can afford all the hazard pay in my contract.”

She tapped her nose, winking at me. “I got the digital copy early this morning, by the way. Thanks for signing it so promptly.”

I rolled my shoulders. “It was just the logical choice. You’re offering a lot of money for something I was trained to do.” Flexing my grip on the steering wheel, I kept glancing sideways at her. “Speaking of which, where’s your scar?”

She blinked at me. “My what?”

“You’re ex-huntress, right?” I prompted, sweat rolling down my neck. Cranking up the air conditioner didn’t really help. “Where’s the... you know. When they took your tracker out?”

Throwing her head back, she started laughing. “Oh, you thought I was legitimate!” Cinder said. “No, no. I told you I was a bit of a drop out, didn’t I?” Settling into the plush leather, her eyes glinted in amusement. “I forged the papers for training, but I didn’t make it very far before getting sniffed out. So where’s _your_ scar, ex-huntress?”

Vividly, the scent of antiseptic filled my senses. Yang with a knife, and the taste of her leather belt in my mouth, and the crunch as she crushed the transmitter crushed under her boot.

“My torso. Right here.” I lifted up my right arm a bit, reaching with my left hand to tap my ribs before returning both hands to the steering wheel. “So you… what, you _faked_ immunity?”

“I made myself look like an appealing candidate,” she said.

Shaking my head, I pulled up to the restaurant. “You’re fucking crazy.”

The leather groaned as she leaned over, kissing me on the cheek without leaving an imprint of red lips. “I like having fun,” she said. “Now, I’m about to go meet with a lieutenant of the White Fang so they can buy the Dust I’m going to illegally smuggle across the continent. This is your last chance to go tear up your contract.”

Someone else opened up her car door, making me jump in my seat. But it was just the valet parking; I motioned to them that I’d be staying with the car. She slid out and I drove off, to idle a few blocks away and feverishly wonder which would be worse: that Cinder was lying to me because she knew I was a rogue huntress, or telling me the truth because she knew I was a rogue huntress.

I thought for sure I’d get her by asking to see her transmitter. Removing it the proper way left a distinctive scar; removing it without the proper tools often meant your heart would explode right out of your chest.

Covering the spot on my rib that was beginning to ache again with all this renewed stress, I leaned the car chair back and tried to close my eyes for a bit. 

It didn’t really work. I was too hyped up on caffeine and nerves. Cinder texted me several times over the next hour, her name popping up on my feed as I went over the contract several more times. Nothing about it looked illegitimate; nothing on it looked odd at all except for the hazard pay. “Why even bother?” I muttered, gritting my teeth. “This is an illegal operation and she’s leaving a paper trail? Is she that arrogant, or just stupid?”

Someone who could falsify their image long enough to get trained as a huntress, even for a short time, was not an idiot.

Which just left what she’d told me: she was doing this for the thrill.

“Can’t be that simple.” I scrolled to the top of the page, something off catching my eye at last. Smirking, I tapped on my name.

Ruby Rose.

I hadn’t gone by that name since I was a kid. None of my current legal documents had that name. How the hell did she find that name?

I had to find out, and before we went out on the mission. I took a screenshot and saved it just to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.

For the second time that day, a rap on the driver’s window made me near jump out of my skin. The scroll dropped as I fumbled for it. Deciding to let it rest at my feet for a moment, I twisted in my chair and glowered out at a strange faunus, hand curled into a fist to knock on my window again.

I cracked the window down a little lower, just an inch. “What? I don’t have any money,” I snapped.

Golden eyes shone bright with amusement. “Your fuel door’s open. Just thought you should know.”

It was? I turned a little further, trying to take a look at my side mirror as the faunus leaned on my car.

And then pain surged through me, blue-white and searing hot. Spasming back while my legs kicked forward, a high whine blocked out every other noise, crackling electricity buzzing and crawling over my skin. The entire car lit up, the speedometer twisting and shivering out of control. It lasted only a few moments before the light died down; the needles fell flat but I was left convulsing in my seat as the faunus reached through the window and unlocked the doors.

The faunus got in the passenger seat, laying a hand on me. I felt something sharp and then the pain abated, but my body refused to do what I told it to. Reaching for my gun was no use; my arm flapped in the opposite direction, every muscle visibly twitching.

I gasped, every breath irregular as the faunus patted me down, disarming me.

The faunus spoke conversationally, laying my pistol on the console between us. “Listen to me carefully if you don’t want to die.”

At least I could control where my head went… sort of. Focusing on the faunus, I grit my teeth, rocking back and forth.

“I just interrupted the electrical signals from your brain,” the faunus said, displaying something on their palm. It looked almost like one of those prank toys, the ones that gave you a jolt if you shook hands with it. But there were two needles fit snugly into the band, red with my blood.

Well, at least it was the right color today.

The faunus kept talking. “Your autonomic nervous system shouldn’t be affected, but it’s never a sure thing. Now, stop flailing if you can breathe.”

Could I breathe? I suddenly wasn’t sure. Relaxing as much as I could, I flopped against the door and glared at the faunus, chest hitching with short breaths. My hands twitched, but otherwise I stayed still.

“Good,” the faunus said, smiling brightly. Two tufted cat ears pricked forward, attentive to every noise I made. “Ruby, my name is Blake. Yang sent me to help you.”

 _Bullshit_ , I tried to say, but just wound up trembling from head to toe.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Blake said, adjusting a dial on the device that rested over the back of their palm. “Don’t go with Cinder on the mission.” They leaned closer. “You feel it, don’t you? That there’s something wrong with her? It doesn’t add up, does it?”

I struck out with one foot, or tried to. I just wound up wiggling in my seat again, but it gave me an idea. Powered mainly by spite, I thrashed in my seat, trying to talk, to move, to breathe, anything.

Blake sat up in alarm. “Ruby? You can breathe, right? Stop moving again if you can breathe.”

Not listening, I kept it up.

The faunus’ expression darkened. “If this is a trick, it won’t work. I’m not going to unfreeze you. I’ll just adjust the electric current until I find one that works.”

Blue sparks lit up on their palm. When my struggles didn’t cease, Blake reached forward and the needles bit through my bicep; lightning filled me from head to toe, the agony almost unbearable. It might have incapacitated anyone else, but I was used to pain. All my fine motor controls were still out of reach, but I could make a fist and that was good enough.

Driving a punch into Blake’s face, I was rewarded with bright red blood and the crunch of cartilage under my knuckles before the voltage increased.

All control was gone, then. I flopped over the console with my head landing on Blake’s lap. The gun was knocked aside into the back seat. Sliding out from under me, Blake opened the car door; I could feel the graze of cold fingers running through my hair, nails on my scalp. And then a hand on my chest, slipping something into my breast pocket.

“Hold onto that. It’s going to save your life. And don’t follow me.”

And then Blake started walking away. An engine roared up next to me, a motorcycle, and then it peeled away in rubber and exhaust and I was left to convulse on the leather seats.

And this time I really couldn’t breathe.

But before panic could set in, I noticed small things returning to me. First I could turn my head, and then roll over and curl up in the passenger foot space and onto the sidewalk. I got up, first on my hands and knees and then both feet, leaning on the car for support.

The street was empty. There weren’t even any pedestrians, and no way to know where Blake had went. Nothing was illuminated by the street lights, which slowly turned on as the sky darkened.

I fumbled with my jacket, reaching into the chest pocket with shaking hands to pull out what Blake had given me.

It was around the size of a business card, but made of thick plastic.

It was white, and completely blank.

 

* * *

 

Shaking from head to toe, I got back in the car and picked up my ringing scroll. A message from Cinder said she was almost done, and needed me to pick her up. Lost, confused, and still in pain, I just did what was in my contract and drove.

Cruising into the semi circle driveway, I patted my bicep, feeling the sting of needle holes and clotted blood on the fabric. There was no way to hallucinate those, or the card in my breast pocket. It was as real as the library card I’d gotten that morning.

 _I’m getting in over my head_ , I realized, passively accepting it as Cinder walked out of the restaurant.

Swallowing nervously, I started rubbing my arm again, nails picking at the scabs that were already starting to form. I checked them, almost as a compulsion, just to see what color it was.

Red blood.

“Hope the wait wasn’t too boring,” Cinder drawled, making me look back up again.

And then I did a double take, stepping back to brace myself against the car.

Standing right next to Cinder was Blake, one hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

“You know what we discussed is not set in stone?” Blake asked her, completely ignoring me as I struggled with what to say. Blake seemed so much larger here than in the car, standing so tall I wondered how they’d even fit before. And their clothes were different, too— a navy blue suit and red tie, where before they’d been wearing all black.

Cinder shrugged Blake’s hand off of her. “Of course, sweetheart. But I hope you’ll at least take more time to think on that other thing I mentioned.”

“ _Hey_!” I shouted, marching towards the pair of them.

Blake’s ears pricked towards me once before falling flat. Yellow eyes, poisonous yellow. Not like Cinder’s flat gold. And no hint of warmth at all in them, not like last time. That, and the memory of what Blake had done to me made me slow down as I approached, hand flared out and ready to draw my pistol.

Blake’s nose wasn’t broken. Maybe I hadn’t punched as hard as I thought I had— except, no, I’d felt it. There was no mistaking it, or the blood I’d rinsed off my hand before arriving here.

_Auras can heal. People can change their clothes._

“This is who you were meeting, Cinder?” I demanded, jabbing a finger at Blake. “Was this person with you the whole time?”

“Do I know you?” Blake wondered as Cinder started giving me warning looks.

Crazy. I was going crazy. “You just gave me something not five minutes ago!” I said, and it was a miracle nobody shot me down when I reached for my chest pocket, fingers uncoordinated until I drew the plastic card out and showed it to Blake.

The faunus’ expression softened, momentarily, confusion draining away all hostility. “Where’d someone like you get a thing like that?” Blake wondered, and the stiff set of the faunus’s shoulders relaxed.

“What is this?” I asked. “What does it mean?”

Blake’s gaze sharpened again, stepping towards me until the difference in our size was made evident. Blake was huge, taller than any faunus had any right to be and outclassing me in every dimension. “Who gave you that?” Blake asked.

“You did! Or do you not remember?” I was getting irritated with repeating myself.

Blake’s voice dripped lower, heavy with intent. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

I refused to respond.

“Your car’s in the way.” Blake’s head jerked to the side, pointing to the car waiting behind mine. “Move it.”

White hot hatred boiled up inside me. “I’ll—” I started, somehow managing to speak through teeth when I felt a tight grip on the back of my neck. Cinder’s hand was cool, a sharp relief against my own scorching temperature. “...Do that.”

My blood pulsed, head pounding as I let Cinder into my car. Getting into the driver’s seat, I was about to slam the door shut when a large hand, terrifyingly strong, grabbed it by the frame and stopped me.

Blake leaned lower, one foot on the step of my car. “Wait,” the faunus said, staring at me harder. “I do know you. You’re the Dragon’s sister. Is that why you got that blank slate on you?”

“How the hell should I know?” I said. “Talk to me when you get your memory back, cat.”

Blake moved so fast I didn’t even see it. That broad hand struck me right over the cheek, knuckles catching me in a backhanded slap. I reeled, seeing stars as Blake took a step back.

“Disrespect me like that again and I’ll dock your ears,” the faunus lieutenant said. “Blank slate just means I can’t kill you, not that you can mouth off at me without repercussions.”

Then the faunus slammed my door shut, nearly catching my foot in the process. Furious, about to boil over, I’m not sure what stopped me from getting outside and fighting until I died. But my contract with Cinder was still in effect, and my hands were shaking and wouldn’t do what I told them to, and the pain in my rib was spiking.

I took off, not waiting for Cinder to buckle in this time.

“Well,” Cinder said, rubbing her temples. “I’m glad you didn’t kill each other.”

“Next time I see that cat, it won’t be me getting my ears docked,” I spat.

“Right.” She tsked, looking disgusted. “Are you going to explain what just happened, or are you going to let me guess?” A sudden stop. She took a breath like she was going to say something else, then popped open my glove compartment and started digging around. “Got any napkins in here?”

“No,” I said.

She rustled through the car’s legal documents and handbook, the only items in the compartment. “This is your car, right, and not a rental? This is the neatest glove compartment I’ve ever seen.” Humming, she reached over and wiped at my lower lip with her thumb. “You’re bleeding. How hard did the cat get you?”

For a hot second I panicked, until I saw that the blood was the correct color. “Dunno. Mainly bruised my ego.” Flinching away from another gentle touch, I tried to turn away from her while keeping focused on the road. “Will you stop pretending you give a shit about me?”

“I take care of the people who are mine.”

At the next red light, she tried again, so I snatched her hand by the wrist, holding it tightly because I was scared my hand would start to shake again. “I’m not yours.”

She tested it a few times, and I wished I wasn’t so satisfied by the way she couldn’t break free. “Yes, you are,” she said at last, meeting my eyes. “I bought you. You’re mine until the contract is over.”

“Oh?” My eyes widened. “The contract? The contract you wrote for me? Are you sure?”

Letting go of her, I fairly threw my scroll at her, running the red light and making a sharp left. Horns blared at us; Cinder took the hint and put on her seatbelt. “Read it again,” I said, not sure where I was driving but knowing for once, I was going to be in control of what happened next.

Cinder just sighed, flicking through the digital copy of my contract again. “Well, there is a three day grace period if you want to back out of it,” she conceded. “But you know, I shouldn’t have made such an insensitive joke while you’re still so…” she weighed her words. “...Upset.”

So she still hadn’t realized my name was wrong. As far as I was concerned, that was an edge I had over her. “A joke!” I said, laughing. “Of course, this is all a joke to you. I bet you and Blake had a great big laugh at my expense.”

“Not really,” she said, and checked out the window. “...Where are we going?”

Jitters made me shake all over again. “Somewhere quiet, so I can think. Was Blake with you the whole time?” Leftover electricity crackled in my ears. “And don’t lie to me!” I added, raising my voice in a shout.

To my irritation, Cinder didn’t seem upset or scared at all. “Blake was waiting for me when I arrived,” she said, “and left when I left.”

Twenty minutes of silence passed before I found my way up to a park. People tended to use it as a lover’s lane during the warmer months, but now as the nights grew increasingly chillier they were retreating to motels and cheap, rented rooms.

I turned to Cinder, killing the engine, locking the doors, and leaving us in darkness.

“Who are you?” I asked. “Your real name. Don’t lie to me.”

She flicked her hair over her shoulder with a careless toss of her head. “Why would I tell you that? I hardly know you.”

“You’re going to know me uncomfortably well if you don’t answer my question.”

“Really?”

I braced a hand next to her face, on the headrest of her seat, and didn’t respond. So she rolled her eyes.

“My… birth name, if you want it so badly, is Ito.” She smirked. “Satisfied?”

“Family name?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know it.”

I leaned closer. “Bullshit.”

“Not everyone has a family worth remembering, Ruby.” She laughed under her breath, like she’d shared a joke with me. And then her hand covered mine, a stroke of her fingers all the warning I got before she took it. “Come here. I’m going to teach you a trick for getting the truth out of me,” she said, and put my right hand around her throat.

Her voice didn’t carry a single tremor and her skin was still ice cold, but her pulse beat loudly under my palm, all of it transmitting right through the leather. I tightened my grip, and felt her heart rate increase. Sitting closer, I put one knee on her seat, pushing her up against the window. “How did you know my name?” I asked. “Don’t say my driver’s license because I know that’s a lie.”

A spark of understanding lit up her eyes. “So that’s why you’re so frazzled,” she said, hands trailing up my arm to stroke me over my chest. “Who cares how I knew it?”

“I do,” I said, free hand working my tie loose. My blood was pounding in my head again, seeing red and black when Cinder’s breath fogged up the glass as she turned her head to the side, turning her cheek to me. “Did you know my name before you met me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, eyes closed.

My hand locked tightly. “That name is a secret. Where did you learn it?”

Two, three, four, five; it took effort to let her go, listen to the sharp inhale. “I recognized you from somewhere else.” She regained her composure, slightly, and I tested my strength against her again to see if she could break free. She couldn’t. “I was surprised to see you again.” Her hands framed her torso, sliding down black lace until she met her own skin. The stockings only went just above her knees, kept in place by elastic. Her thighs parted, and I could see more lace underneath, white, damp. “And surprised that you were exactly what I needed.”

“Are you a time traveler?”

She started laughing, unexpectedly loud. I caught myself grinning too. “No. If I was, would that explain a few things?”

“Well.” When I tilted her head to face me with my other hand, her jaw relaxed under my touch, teeth parting for my thumb in the corner of her mouth. “Can’t rule anything out.”

Lacquered nails scratched ten rows along her own pale thighs. “I’m not sure what I did to get your attention like this, but I’m glad I was right about you.” She sounded like she was gloating, teeth flashing white against the black leather before she bit down. Flinching, I darted my hand away.

With my thumb still sore, I pushed her hands away before they could work open my belt and was rewarded with a slap, claws raking over my cheek. I was still tender from when Blake had hit me— my pride and my skin both. “How do you fuck anyone with those nails?” I growled, struggling bodily with her now, only getting her under control when I kissed her, pressing her up against the doorframe with her legs around me.

I peeled her underwear aside, feeling no friction or resistance at all when I stroked along the length of her. “Does fighting me make you this wet?”

“Stop… asking... questions.” Each breath came out huffed, speaking through teeth clenched. 

The fever in me hit its peak, the pulse of her veins beating through the leather no matter where I touched. Her eyes were thin rings of gold, holding mine as I held her by the neck, hips pushing forward instinctively with every thrust of my fingers inside her.

When she came, the pulse around my fingers went off-pattern. Liquid heat drenched the palm of my glove and filled my car with the scent of sex and leather. Sweat cooled on the back of my neck and on my forehead, muted by the delicate kiss she pressed on my brow.

Panting, I pulled free and took off my gloves. Leaving them inside out, I dropped them onto the floor and turned back to Cinder, pushing her thick black hair out of the way so I could plunder her breathless lips for more kisses. She gave me as much as I could take, filling my mouth with that heat. Her palms skated over my chest, and I relented, letting her take my jacket off. “Mmm,” she said, locking her arms under mine to hold me tight. “Do I get to touch you now?”

Frankly, I wasn’t sure I was up for an orgasm. Sex was stressful for me under the best of circumstances, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about what I’d just done. “If you want,” I mumbled into her neck, sudden shyness making my shoulders tense up. “I’m sorry, I… I’m sorry.”

She hummed, fingers working quickly between us. The cool sound of metal clicking made my heart rate spike as she undid my belt buckle, tugging down my pants. “Please—” I held her wrist, not nearly as tight as I had before, but she stopped. “Don’t undress me too much. It’s not pretty underneath.”

And one hand wound around my tie, undone but still wrapped around my neck. She pulled it free, undoing the top button on my shirt. “Has anyone ever told you you’re paranoid?” Her nails found my face, scraping lightly now over exposed skin, every nerve raw and alight with sensation. But she didn’t take off any more than that, content to grasp at my breasts through my shirt and then dip her hand under the waist of my pants, searching blindly. I lifted my hips to give her more room, choking on gasps as she cupped her hand over my sex.

“Feeling more secure after choking me?” she teased. Bracing one foot on the floor, I held her face with my hands, kissing her so she couldn’t do that anymore and because I didn’t know what else to do.

Two fingers splayed out over my entrance, holding me open and rubbing gently at the same time. I bucked my hips forward, wanting more, faster. Her lips stained my throat red with what was left of her lipstick, the flat of her tongue tracing up my veins, and suddenly I couldn’t get enough of that, either. Every sensitive spot was carefully unearthed, gently, until I was so desperately wet and overstimulated I couldn’t form thoughts anymore. The press of her nails made me jolt, uncertain and a little afraid. She relented, just one finger curling insistently against my front wall, searching again until she found a place inside me that made me moan, raggedly, into her mouth.

My hands were full of her, black dress hiked up so I could grasp at her full hips. Crackles and pops of stitching coming loose. “You’re too quiet,” she said, “Make more cute noises.”

I couldn’t follow her order to the letter but I tried, shaking with the effort of keeping still. I felt like I spilled into her when I came, melting and falling apart, my mind going blank with pleasure.

Resting my head on her chest, I groaned in protest as she kept trying to touch me. Somehow I maneuvered us, holding tight and reversing us so that she was on top. I clicked on the chair’s lever, reclining back and keeping her in place, trying to form words again.

“We can’t do this again,” was the first thing I said, still breathing hard. “You’re my boss.”

“Oh. Okay. You’re fired, then.” She propped her chin on my chest, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. “But before that, can I get an explanation? First you turn me down, then we start warming up, and then you lose it and give me the best sex I’ve had in a very long time.”

I squeezed her. Licking my lips, I tried to make sense of everything that had happened today. “Blake threatened me.”

“Yes,” she said, “I was there for that, if you recall.”

I shook my head. “Before that. Blake was in my car. Or Blake’s twin. Or someone with a mimicry semblance, trying to make me doubt myself. While you were at the dinner, they hurt me and told me not to go on the mission with you.”

A note of concern threaded its way into her voice. Tender, she pet my hair, trying to get it to lie flat again. “We can’t have my huntress making enemies with the White Fang,” she reminded me. “They’re buying half my Dust.”

“Making enemies? Then why give me the blank slate?” I glanced over at the driver’s seat, where my jacket lay crumpled and discarded. “What’s so special about me?”

Sitting up, Cinder kissed me again. “Well, I don’t know why the White Fang are tormenting you, but you are special, because…” She thought about it, turning my head to kiss my cheek, too. “You’re my favorite, Ruby.”

For some reason, that made me smile. “Your favorite what? You hardly know me.”

“You’re my favorite Ruby.”

Probably the sex talking. But I found it endearing anyway. I wondered how often she had sex, then, and who with. How many other girls. Or maybe not even girls. “Out of all the rubies in the world, I’m the best, huh?”

“Not the best.” She pinched my cheek. “Just my favorite. Do you still have that lighter? I need a smoke or I’m gonna die.”

“That’d be bad for me. I’m supposed to protect you.” The last thing I wanted to do was move, but I straightened out and sat up as well, helping her fix her dress. “Um, I’m also not supposed to vent my bad days on you…”

Opening up the car door, she got off of me and stretched outside. Compared to the heat inside, the park felt downright frigid. I shivered from head to toe, hopping outside as well and buttoning up my shirt. “So you only fucked me because you’re stressed?” Cinder demanded, mouth busy with another cigarette. I lit it for her, only feeling a little guilty.

“I was _very_ stressed,” I said. “And… and angry.”

“My god.” The cigarette tip glowed hot, the molten orange of her semblance. “No offense, Newbie, but can I count on you having some terrible, unmanageable stress in the next thirty minutes?”

On instinct, I reached down to cover my ribs, hand pressing in to feel for the injury that woke me up most days. “Depends. Can you answer more of my questions, or do I need to choke it out of you again?”

“Mmm.” Her eyes lit up faster than the cigarette tip had. “Don’t tempt me, baby.”

My face fell flat. “Don’t call me that. And what were you doing at the library yesterday?”

She blew out a stream of smoke into my face. “Reading. A book on contemporary Vale history!” she added after I didn’t smile.

Perching on the hood of my car, she started humming tunelessly. Still cold, I retrieved my jacket from the car and shrugged it on. For a moment I wondered if Cinder might need it; she was wearing less. If the temperature bothered her, she didn’t say anything. I didn’t have any more questions for her, not at first, until she caught the melody she was seeking and began to sing, under her breath.

It felt very familiar.

“You’ve got a nice voice,” I said, reclining next to her, both of us looking out into the dark.

Cinder dropped the ashes onto the ground. “I used to sing in bars when I was your age.” Her hand caressed the back of my neck, sussing out the tense spots and massaging them away. “For cigarette money.”

“What were you singing just now?”

“Just a folk song.” She tilted my head up to her lips. “[Your mother taught it to me.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oh97e3dshhY)


	7. I Think That's When She Fell In Love With Me

“When I was a girl,” Cinder said, taking my left hand between hers. “There were Grimm in the town.”

Grimm. Such a thing was almost unimaginable. But I listened, shocked into silence and stillness, transfixed by her words. She sat behind me as I leaned against the car, played with my hand, fitting our fingers together carefully so that the lit cigarette didn’t singe my bare skin.

“I don’t imagine you’d know the name even if I told you,” she went on. “That place is long gone from this world, burnt to ash. But before that, your mother saved my life.”

That stirred me. “We didn’t hunt Grimm. She doesn’t. Didn’t.”

“She did, at least when she and I first met.” A long wistful sigh, accompanied by a plume of blue-grey smoke. It drifted past my head, out into the night. Behind me, Cinder continued to speak. “I wanted to be like that more than anything. Strong and powerful. I didn’t see her again until I had grown into my own power, and by then, she had forgotten me.”

I felt Cinder shake her head.

“Or maybe to her, in that life she lived, it was as though she had never met me...”

This was getting confusing. “I don’t understand. You-?”

“Sometimes two people remember the same event differently.” She said it with more sharpness than it warranted, in my opinion, and suspicion managed to wrestle its way past my shock. “Summer, ah… let’s put it this way. When I first saw her, I would have said she was a woman, an adult.”

Cinder’s hand crept along my jawline, thumb pressed to the back of my neck to rub it fondly. “In reality, she probably was just a little bit younger than you are now.”

I fell quiet again, long enough to decipher it. “I don’t like it when you play riddles,” I said at last. “This all started because you can’t give me a straight answer. Why did you lie to me?” I turned around, looking her in the eyes.

Her head quirked to the side, a sad smile on her lips. “Ruby,” she said, “If I had told you the truth before now, would you have even believed me?”

Probably not. But I didn’t want to admit she was right.

“Besides,” Cinder said, “I never lied to you.”

“You said you saw my name on my driver’s license,” I said, sullen.

Cinder laughed. “You’re really stuck on that, aren’t you? All I said was that your name was _on_ your driver’s license. Is it not?”

“Oh,” I said, voice dripping with barely contained rage. “So that’s the angle you’re going to play, huh?”

She remained unphased. That attitude was going to take some getting used to. Something about me is off, and wrong. I’ve heard it said, behind my back and to my face. Most people didn’t think much of me at first glance, but after a while they were usually left unnerved, or afraid, or angry, or… something. Something other than whatever Cinder felt towards me.

“Learn when to ask the right questions and you’ll get better answers,” was her flippant reply, accompanied by a short shrug of her shoulders.

So it was a matter of figuring out when Cinder was telling the right answer, then?

I couldn’t go wrong with yes or no, so I gave it a shot.

“You’d seen me. Before I became your driver.”

She leaned forward. “Yes. When you were a little girl.”

“And you want me because I’m Summer’s daughter.”

Cinder grinned. “No. Meeting you as an adult was a happy accident. Not something I engineered, or even enjoyed very much at first.” Her fingers flicked my ear. “But I’ve warmed up to you. It helps that you’re my type.”

Without warning, she darted in and gave me a kiss. I didn’t pull back until I had another question. “So why—why can’t you just—? Why couldn’t you just tell me? Why do you want me?”

So much for yes or no.

“No bullshit?” Her eyes glittered.

I nodded, a little too quickly.

“I think,” she said, winding her arms around my neck and pulling me closer to where she sat on the hood of my car. “That it’s hard to tell you what’s going on in my mind when I see you. That coincidence, or fate, brought me to you, and we were destined to meet, because you are exactly what I need exactly when I needed it. And that I’m sure our paths crossed in many other ways we can’t know, or remember.”

I frowned, deeply. “...Cinder, no offense, but that’s a lot of bullshit.”

She threw her head back and laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

 

* * *

 

The next day, she began preparing for our journey across the continent.

“You’re not just a driver anymore, Ruby.”

“I know.” It said as much in the new contract. But I didn’t see what it had to do with all the folios and faces and names she was making me go over. “Who are these people?”

“Potential hires. Recognize any hunters?”

“Um. Well I’m bad with faces, anyway…” I stared at a row of people I’d never seen before. Cinder sat in Roman’s desk chair, her lips pursed as she took my scroll and tampered with it. When she gave it back, there were names attached to the faces. My eyes narrowed at one, just a few rows down. “Why the hell is Weiss Schnee on this list?”

“She’s a huntress, isn’t she?” she reached up, snubbing my nose, teasing me.

“Ex-huntress. She bought her way out almost as soon as basic training was done.” I set the scroll down, disgusted. Everyone knew the name Schnee. And now I knew the face to match it. “If you want recommendations, I can give you some names for people I want on the trip.”

“She’s my competition.” Cinder took out a cigarette holder, tapping the empty end onto Schnee’s face. “I want you to recognize her on sight if we ever come across her.”

I continued scrolling, matching names to faces. I recognized Nora Valkyrie and her handler, Lie Ren. They had worked with Summer and Raven a few times. Blake Belladonna— listed as an ally. My own name, and Yang’s. “Hey, it’s my sister.”

“Someone recommended the Dragon to me,” Cinder said. “I thought about hiring her until I realized she’d been missing for a while. I even tried to find her.”

My heart leapt into my throat. “Any luck on that front?”

“Just that she had some shady dealings with the White Fang before she vanished.” Cinder hummed, deep in her throat. “Blake says they met together a year ago to discuss… what was it… spare parts? Machinery? I assume for the cars you build.”

“Or Yang’s bike, maybe.” I puzzled it out. “Blake said Yang was looking out for me.”

“The person who electrocuted you in the car told you that,” She corrected me. “That person might not have been _our_ Blake.” The tall brute who slapped me.

I flared out my fingers, wiggling them and wavering my voice. “Perhaps it was fate. A Blake from another life.” I held my arms out like I was about to take flight, undulating them. “Mmm, mmm, and we were destined to meet them, Cinder Fall.”

“I’m going to go over there and smack you if you keep that up.”

“You’re the one who fucked me and got all clingy afterwards,” I pointed out, rounding the desk to pull up my contract on her scroll. “Also, if you look right here, it distinctly says abusing me is against policy.” I scrolled a little further down. “And I had to edit it. I can’t promise I’ll be able to sign on for longer than a month.”

“That’s fine,” she said, waving it away. “If you change your mind and want to stay longer, we’ll draft up a new one. And if you don’t, I won’t keep you chained up here.” Her eyes glittered. “As much as you would enjoy that.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” I sat on Roman’s desk, tilted her head up, and gave her a little kiss just as Roman himself walked in.

He did a double take, lifting both arms up like something had blasted in front of his face. Then he stomped a foot down, eyes rolling hugely. “Oh, come on! Really? On my desk?”

I hopped up to my feet at once, standing straight. My hands fumbled for my sunglasses, sliding them on with shaking hands. I didn’t care much for Roman, still felt a lingering resentment towards him. But it was weird to have anyone catch me kissing Cinder. Up until that moment I had been harboring the hope that I could keep it under wraps.

Grumbling in disgust, he muscled me aside. “Okay, so, if you two are done, Cinder and I need to go over all the hires.”

“Don’t bring Violet or Jaune,” I said. “They won’t survive long outside the walls.”

“Great, kid. Nobody asked.”

Cinder spoke up, her tone dropping ten degrees. It cut harder than ice, a cold mask of ruthlessness making her features sharp and distant at the same time. “I asked.”

To the untrained eye, Roman’s response was smooth. But I saw the flicker of fear, the grimace of his lips. Whatever tied Roman to Cinder was something stronger than money, for sure, because he corrected himself at once. “Well of course, Cinder, dear. So who else is coming?”

“Sun,” I said, counting out the names as I said them. “The Malachites. Valkyrie, possibly, and if she’s coming then her handler might as well—”

Cinder asked me a question without words, her head tilted to the side.

“After basic, after we’ve been proven to be immune, we get transmitters,” I explained. “The crack-it…” Cinder’s frown of confusion deepened. “Er, the Center for Research and Containment of Extra-monarchical Threats, they have people monitoring us all the time to make sure we don’t go rogue. It's usually one handler per ten hunters. They know where we are, so they tell us what needs to be done in those areas.”

And sometimes they could take control. But there was no reason a civilian needed to know that.

“Last I heard, Valkyrie bought her way out, so she’s probably trying to fight off her debt before they drag her back in.  She and her handler both quit at the same time, they’re lovers. They'll be a good addition to the team, for sure.” Hunters in debt always were. When they weren’t crazy.

Blake would fly to Vacuo and meet us there. There were a handful of White Fang and other, unaffiliated faunus gang members who would be coming with us on the trek. I didn’t know them, but Cinder said they weren’t immune. A good number of the hires weren’t, and that worried me a lot.

“Do you really think a bunch of ex-huntresses and gangsters will be enough to make it?” I asked her, not even trying to hide the emotion in my voice.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said, getting up and patting my cheek.

Cinder gave me more names and faces to go over; I noted a few active huntresses. We couldn’t have any of them in the group. With the transmitters, we’d be broadcasting our location to several different authorities. We didn’t want to risk a run in.

Three cars, each with an flatbed trailer hitched to the back for extra cargo and four people guarding it.

In total, twelve people would be making the trip.

 

* * *

 

After that was a short trip to the docks to double check all the vehicles we’d be using. Despite myself I buzzed with energy at the sight, ready to take them all apart and make sure I knew what I’d be dealing with out in the wilds.

I set a hand on the hood of one of the jeeps, looking to Cinder. I’d barely opened my lips to speak when she gave me a dismissive gesture, a go-ahead. Once I realized I didn’t have to rein myself in, I rolled up my sleeves and learned the engines inside out. Cinder got bored watching me after a while and vanished; I noticed her walk inside one of the smaller buildings with Blake and Roman.

About an hour passed. Sun and Jaune idled by, watching me from a safe distance. It was obvious they didn’t fit in well with the others, not belonging to any gang in particular, yet affiliated with them nonetheless. I wondered briefly how Jaune reconciled that with himself, since he didn’t seem to enjoy any part of it.

“Don’t break anything now,” Sun said, his tail waving behind him lazily. “I’m gonna be driving one of these.”

Standing up straight, I patted the steel affectionately, lost in thought. They were ugly and sturdy, with canvas tops to cover the passengers and any spare goods. Just barely big enough to be called a truck without bringing up the mental image of a highway and eighteen wheels.

“How are we going to get these outside the walls?” I wondered, more to myself than to him. “People are easy. Trucks…”

“That part’s all me,” Jaune said, stepping up.

“Oh? So Roman keeps you around for more than your looks?”

The big faunus scratched at the back of his round lion ears, eyes askance. “Yeah. I uh… I make… I’m making the passports.”

Something jiggled the back of my mind. “Forgeries?” I wondered if he could forge immunity papers. “Do you work with Cinder often, then?”

He shook his head. “This is my first time working with Cinder herself. But I’d heard a lot about her.”

I grinned. “The real Cinder or the urban legend? Admit it, you laughed when she introduced herself, right? I thought Junior was playing a prank on me.”

“Both?” Sun prompted. “Like, I know it sounds silly, but…”

Jaune couldn’t help butting in. His tail hung limply, unlike Sun’s, but when he got excited it began to twitch and thrash from side to side. “But Roman said when he was a kid Cinder was an adult. They’ve done runs together before.”

I shrugged. “So she’s older than she looks.” I knew there wasn’t much chance of her being anywhere under thirty.

“Yeah. Like a lot older.” Jaune didn’t look too pleased about it. Then he blurted out, “Hey, how come you didn’t vouch for me? Was I that useless when you went up against Lou?”

Oh, great. How’d he find out about that? I doubted Cinder told him. “You’re just noisy,” I said, getting irritated already. “You’d draw the Scabs out.”

“But if it came down to a fight,” he said, “Wouldn’t you rather have more people with you?”

“If it comes down to a fight, we’re dead.” I wasn’t sure how I could be more clear. “So we want less people, and we want them to be good at evading attention.”

Jaune deflated, and for a moment I was relieved until he blurted out, “Okay, but if you just gave me a chance—?”

The thump of my fist hitting steel made him jump. I looked at him, then smoothed a hand over the metal to make sure I hadn’t dented the car.

That was an emotional outburst and not one I was particularly proud of. But I had just told him the truth and here he was, questioning me, my experience, my intent to keep people alive.

“Okay,” I said, trying to deflect away from my own loss of control, and thinking of a way I could hammer the lesson in. “One chance. I’ll go ahead and show you what we do to rookie huntresses to get them warmed up for their first time outside the walls.”

Jaune could barely contain his excitement, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Yes! Thank you Ruby!”

“You have to keep absolutely silent until I tell you otherwise,” I warned him, lifting a finger to my lips. He went mum, looking at me with open expectation. I nodded for him to follow and then left, headed towards one of the storage units. Sun tagged along, also keeping quiet.

Once we were inside, I closed the door behind us and took off my jacket, wondering where to start with someone I didn’t know. If Jaune were actually a hunter in training, and actually immune, I’d bite him a few times to let him know what he was in store for. Not all the teeth marks on my body were from Scabs, after all.

Following my lead, Jaune also shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over one of the Dust crates, fists clenching up instinctively, ready for a fight.

Instead I quirked out a hand, fingertips gesturing inwards towards me. Confused, Jaune hesitated before giving me his hand. I turned it over, thumb pressing on his palm. He flinched, keyed up and sensitive to anything I might do. But I grinned up at him, prompting him to grin in return as I worked my way up his arm with both thumbs, kneading in.

It’d been awhile since I’d done this exercise so I wasn’t sure where to press exactly until I found the pressure point and dug in as viciously as I could.

Jaune’s eyes popped open, his mouth tightening as he reflexively tried to move away. I moved with him, pressing in harder, my smile gone. Remembering what he was trying to prove, then, Jaune kept in one place but couldn’t keep still. He squirmed, nostrils flaring wide.

But he didn’t make any noise at all, to his credit, so I let him go. Jaune stepped back at once, shaking out his arm and jumping lightly in place. I gave him a small thumbs up, and then turned to Sun, who was glaring at me with murder in his eyes.

I quirked my head to the side, questioningly. Sun’s lips tightened and he didn’t look away.

Then I gestured for him to come closer. He hesitated, then came over and offered me his arm as well, maybe expecting more of what I had done to Jaune.

But I shook my head no. Sun wasn’t the one who concerned me. I covered his eyes with one hand, and when I pulled away I was pleased to see he had taken the hint and kept his eyes shut. With both hands on his shoulders, I gently turned him so that his back was to me.

Then I pulled the gun from my shoulder holster, checking the cartridges inside and replacing them. Once everything was set and safe, I put the gun to the back of Sun’s head and squeezed the trigger.

_“No!”_

Two hundred pounds of lion faunus barreled into me and the shot went wild, up into the air. Jaune was very strong but I was trained to deal with creatures his size, and they fought dirty. Keeping very calm and very still, I felt around and squeezed and flipped, using Jaune’s own weight against him until I had him locked with my legs around his throat and the gun pointed at him again.

Sun had flinched and whirled around, but backed away at the sight of us. What had just happened hadn’t caught on, until he saw the gun in my hand.

“Evil!” Jaune sputtered. “You evil—!”

“Calm down!” I shouted as Jaune flapped around. He didn’t, so I pulled the trigger.

The pellet went into his chest; he gasped, a palm flying over the spot as his whole body went rigid.

...And then relaxed in confusion as nothing happened. He patted the spot again, lifting a hand to check for blood.

Then I let him go, flopping backwards onto the floor and laughing from my belly. Once he was free, Jaune zipped over to Sun, patting his body the whole time, still searching for an exit wound.

I waved the gun at him, grinning hugely.

“...Oh, you _are_ evil,” he said at last. All the blood had drained from his face and he was shaking, visibly. I got up and dusted myself off, searching the floor for my pellets. “Rubber bullets?”

I shook my head. “At this range, even a rubber bullet could kill you.” Once I’d found my pellets I waved it cheerfully at him. “These are the grownup versions of those cap guns you played with as a kid. It spits out one of these with about as much force as a rubber band.” I tossed the pellet at him to demonstrate. “And makes a big, satisfying… _bang!”_

I whipped my hand up, squeezing the trigger and letting out another shot. Sun and Jaune both flinched, but Jaune shouted in surprise, confirming my suspicions.

“That’s how they psyched me out my first time, too,” I said. “And, if you’ll notice, I haven’t given you the go-head to speak yet.” I looked to Sun. “You can speak, now.”

“You’re a jerk,” Sun said.

“Thanks,” I said. Holstering the gun again, I put on my jacket, feeling satisfied. “Jaune, keep practicing. You need to be stronger than your instincts until you develop better ones. Then next time— if there is a next time— maybe you can come with us.”

This time there was no arguing from him, just a huge amount of disappointment.

I told Cinder about it on the way to her hotel.

“How does someone as nice as you get off on being that cruel?” she asked. She seemed genuinely curious, keeping up her track record of not indulging in too much small talk with me.

“I wasn’t being cruel?” I gave her a sullen look. “I was being realistic. Jaune and Sun are both chatty, but Sun follows orders a little better. If Jaune can learn to be quieter then there won’t be a problem.”

Cinder reclined her seat a bit before toeing off her shoes. She tapped on her scroll, drawing lines and sigils and messages in languages I didn’t recognize. 

“He might get another chance soon,” she said, getting comfortable. “I’m taking a third of the Dust with us on the continental trip, taking all the risk. One third is going by boat, taking all the fees. And one third is staying right here in Vale.” She shut it and shook her loose hair back over her shoulders. “Whichever method works best, we’ll transport the last of it that way.”

“What happens to that last third if we die on the way?

Cinder sounded irritated. “If we die, then who cares?”

Hard logic to beat. When we arrived at Cinder’s hotel, I got out and moved to open up her car door. But one look at the place made me get right back in the driver’s seat and turn to her, frowning deeply.

“Cinder,” I said, “Why do you need money so badly?”

She blinked at me. It wasn’t often I managed to surprise her, so I took that moment to feel proud, even if I kept my expression stern. “This place is a dive. What happened to the other hotel? Are you so tight on cash you’re doing illegal road trips and staying in Motel Murder?” I still found it hard to believe she was doing all this just for the thrill of it. There had to be more at stake.

“Was someone actually murdered here?” Cinder asked, turning around to press her face to the glass and look outside with interest.

I grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her back. “That’s not the point.”

“I don’t need it,” she said at last. “I’m just good at it.”

That didn’t make any sense, and I told her as much.

“Well,” she said, “I wouldn’t be good at making money if I blew it all on expensive hotels, would I?” The cold, hard line that often fell between us melted a little in that moment. Cinder wasn’t smiling, or being coy or flirting with me. Her expression was actually very blank as she focused out the front window. The only thing that stood out was the single stress mark across her forehead, furrowed eyebrows like a bold ink stroke. “All I need is somewhere with four walls and a roof. Somewhere to sleep and hold my things. Comfort isn’t really a priority in my life.”

I sat back, shaking my head in disbelief. “You can’t spend the extra fifty lien it would take to also ensure you aren’t murdered in your bed?”

She flashed a grin at me, huge, with too many teeth. “I’d actually find that very exciting. Anyway, unless you’re offering to spring for a nicer hotel—”

“Go check out.”

I had hoped that announcement would shock her, but she just seemed pleased. Her palms pressed against the seat as she leaned over, kissing my cheek. “Wait here for me, then.”

While I did, I wondered if perhaps this was exactly how she planned the night to end. She dropped her luggage into my trunk— there wasn’t much of it— and then we were off. Like hell I was going to spend any of my paychecks on a hotel room for my boss, though. I drove up to Junior’s bar, parked in the lot outside even though he hated it when I did that, and I carried Cinder’s bags up to my apartment.

“And you said I was clingy,” Cinder teased as I unlocked the door and showed her inside. “Already taking me home? We’re moving a little fast, aren’t we?”

“You’re sleeping in the guest room,” I told her, by which I meant Yang’s room.

"Oh, of course," Cinder said. She sat on the edge of my dining room table, crossing one leg over the other, flashing those shorts that did almost nothing to convince me they were for modesty. "You live above a club, but you say you don’t drink or go out that often.” Her golden eyes flicked over to the fully stocked bar that glittered near the kitchen area. “...And that is…”

My fingers fiddled, idle and uncomfortable about it. Pulling my spinner ring back from where I’d set it aside, I looked down at it instead of her, thumb twirling the case too hard. “Yang’s.”

“She decorated the place, didn’t she? Nothing in here feels much like you.” Her eyes sharpened, and so did her tone. The mask dropped, everything icy cold as she focused on the door leading outside. “Except that.”

One of my favorite schematics hung above the doorframe, a pet project from when I was a huntress. Six feet long and beautifully detailed. “Oh, yeah.” I looked up at it with fondness, and just a small bite of nostalgia. “I like scythes. That one’s impossible, though. The math is right but it never quite worked the way it was meant to.”

“You design all the weapons Junior and his people use.”

I nodded. “And sometimes I play bartender, when he’s really short staffed.” That made her chuckle, but I was telling the truth. Staying dry in a boozy environment is about making yourself useful in other ways. “Want a drink?”

She groaned, closing her eyes in exhaustion. “I want a shower. It’s been a long day.”

So I pointed her in the right direction, and sighed when she left my field of vision.

And then I ran to the wall, thumping my forehead against it before sliding down with my palms pressed to the paint.

_Whaaaaat am I doooooing?!!_

Cinder was right about me giving mixed signals. But I couldn’t help it. I liked her, a lot. She was like me, but not close enough that I felt a credible threat from her. An ex-huntress, like me, except not like me. Just distant enough to not know any better.

She was the kind of person who did dangerous things for the thrill of it. I did not need or want someone like that.

Except I did.

I went into my room, the one I slept in before Yang left, and started taking apart another gun. It wasn’t really what I wanted to be playing with, especially after Cinder reminded me of my pet scythe that I never got to finish. But something that big needed a proper forge and access to Dust, and I just didn’t have either of those.

My scroll buzzed.

_Any towels?_

_Sorry. I’ll get you one that’s not dirty._

Of course, I hadn’t done any of my laundry or chores lately, either. I definitely wasn’t anticipating a house guest. Grabbing one from where it still lay crumpled in my dryer, I held open the door to the bathroom just a crack and tossed it in. It hit Cinder with a loud thwap, and she made a noise of anger before wrenching open the door.

“Hey,” she said, holding the towel up to her chest and glaring up at me. “I could still fire you, you know.”

I leaned against the door, keeping my eyes closed and smiling at her. “But you _need_ me, Cinder. We’re _soul mates_.”

The towel hit my face; instinctively, I threw it over her head and tugged down, using the opportunity to tousle her hair dry. She struggled under the indignity, forcing me to keep her still, which meant my hands on her bare skin and then her lips on mine, a questioning tug at my belt buckle.

Wait.

“Oh. Ma’am.” I was so shocked I’d reverted right back to the professionalism excuse, even if I had known on some level we expected this. Out there in the car in that isolated park was one thing, but here, right here in my apartment… “Junior would—”

Her fingers hooked around my tie, pulling me into the shower with her. “Do you see Junior anywhere around here?” she asked, raking one hand through her damp hair to push it out of her face. “Is Junior currently your employer?”

I braced myself on the wet, tiled walls, hands on either side of her face and arching my hips back, trying to avoid any body contact. Trying not to look too closely at her was almost impossible now, so I just kept my eyes trained on her face and not her bare body, beads of water still clinging to every patch of naked skin. “No m— Cinder.”

The knot came loose under her hands. “I bought you, Ruby,” she said, reminding me. Smirking again at the way the words made my forehead crease in displeasure, her lips found my neck and it was hard to feel mad after that, or feel anything at all. I drew closer, hesitantly, still unsure if we should be doing this. “And I’m feeling oh so vulnerable and unsafe in here, and need some close supervision from my bodyguard.” Her hands went down, popping open each button on my shirt with a deliberate, methodical rhythm. “So do your job.”

I shivered under her touch as she got to my bare stomach, the trails of her claws scratching just hard enough to leave a mark. “You can even keep calling me ma’am,” she teased, “If you’re so hung up about your schedule. What are these?” she added curiously, in almost the same tone, as her fingers found the bandages around my abdomen.

Alarmed, I grabbed her by the wrists, yanking them away and pinning them above her head.

I kissed her, undeniably angry, fighting the irrational urge to hurt her. She followed my wordless guidance, turning around so I could drag a palm down her breasts and stomach, my mouth on the back of her neck. I expected her tattoo to feel different, like a brand or a scar, raised from the skin. But it was smooth under my tongue, tasted just like clean flesh.

My hand went between her legs. “I don’t want you to touch me until the job is over. I’m serious.” I spoke into her ear, feeling her chest twitch with a gasp. “Think you can keep your hands out of trouble for a month?”

She didn’t answer at first, but eventually, she agreed. I kissed her again, between her shoulderblades. Then left without another word, already regretting my decision and feeling stressed. My hand ached a bit; I went to the kitchen, washing it off with soap and water.

I hadn’t used a glove this time. Stupid.

 

* * *

 

No bad dreams hit me that night, but when I woke up at six I was in an incredible amount of pain. I clapped a palm over my ribs, groaning into the pillow, biting it to keep from making any more noise. I’d been living with this pain for many many years, ever since the bite that forcefully immunized me, that day on Patch.

There was only one shower, attached to Yang’s bedroom. I zipped past the bed, noticing how Cinder sat up at my presence in the room. Of course she would be a light sleeper.

Trying not to be sick, I stumbled into the shower stall and turned the hot water on. It streamed down my legs brown and murky. I didn’t want to look at it, landing heavily on the floor with my eyes closed. When the hot water ran out, I shut it off and stayed in the shower until I passed out again.

I woke up when my scroll rang. Dripping wet, I slid open the shower door and found my clothes, rummaging around for the device. I grabbed it. Cinder.

 _Breakfast?_ she sent me.

 _Is that a request, or an offer?_ I responded.

A winky face.

I got dressed, and found Cinder ransacking my fridge.

“Move,” I grumbled, and shooed her aside. I cracked a pair of eggs and chopped up the scattered vegetables I had, making a quick omelette for the both of us. Sensing my mood, Cinder kept quiet and our only interaction for the next forty minutes was when she passed me a cup of coffee, very sweet and mostly cream.

“Are you going to be okay?” Cinder asked once I had mellowed out a bit.

“Yeah,” I said.

“You’re sick, aren’t you,” Cinder said, not a question this time.

“Yeah.” I shook my head and poured another cup of coffee. “I’ve been sick for a long time. It won’t interfere with the mission.”

She looked strange without makeup, bare-faced and pale. Her thick hair was in need of a comb, curling up at the ends more than usual. But her eyes were bright, trying to take me apart. “If it’s a matter of finding the right pills, I imagine having the Dragon as a sister was invaluable.”

“Drugs don’t really work on me,” I said. “I’d rather not talk about it. Unless you’re trying to pry more information from me about Yang?”

“You probably don’t hear this often, but I don’t really care about the Dragon.” She took her scroll and began to do work, ignoring me, and the conversation ended there.

The rest of the day was spent doing final prep work. I drove Cinder around, purposefully avoided making too much contact with Blake or Roman, and made sure Sun knew what to have in advance for the mission.

I asked Cinder as well— “What are you wearing?”

Cinder looked at me.

And then her eyebrows did a little dance.

“On the trip, stupid.”

“Ah, got it, got it.” We were back in my apartment, so she had her luggage and pulled out something that passed my inspection. A leather jacket, tight clothes. Something to keep her hair, up, too, so no Scabs could grab at her and tug her away.

We got up earlier the next day, getting dressed in the dark. One by one, the latches and belts of my old huntress uniform fell into place. Blood red leather, darkened down to wine by age, covering me from a tight sheath around my neck down to my ankles.

Cinder looked at me approvingly. "Is it my birthday?"

The comment rolled off me without effect. I'd long grown used to any snide or sexual comments about the nature of the huntress uniform. "You would have liked the way it fit before, when I was healthier." I said, flexing an arm with a small smile. "I've lost a lot of weight." A tight shirt and flexible pants covered up the skintight armor and I was ready to go.

We headed out [towards the walls](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34pVWYiJ86M), driving in silence.


	8. It Takes More Than That To Kill Her, Of Course

 

We drove to one of the poorer neighborhoods, the ones pressed all the way up against the city’s walls. I wish I could say I was surprised when none other than Neptune opened the door and invited us inside his house. **  
**

“Thank you for all your help,” Cinder said sweetly, palming a huge stack of lien into his hand in passing.

“Hope you find what you’re looking for,” Neptune said to her, but he was looking at me.

I let Cinder take my hand as she led me downstairs.

The basement wouldn’t have looked out of place in a horror film. Surgical steel tables organized in rows in the center of the room, overhead light glaring down like a burning sun. Cabinets with glass panels lined the walls, tools and vials neatly tucked away, and not a speck of dust coated any surface. Formaldehyde and sharp rust settled deep in the back of my throat. A large tub nestled in a corner of the room next to an emergency eye wash station.

Every eye focused on us as we walked in, and I froze.

Just about everyone was ex-huntress. I recognized them by face if not by name, and I could tell they knew the same of me. Judgemental, or burning with curiosity.

“Rose!”

My name. It staggered me less to hear it again, since at least a fellow huntress would have reason to know it. Nora Valkyrie honed in on me immediately, crossing the room to look me up and down. She kept her hands on her hips, lips pursed in disapproval.

“They told me you died,” Nora said. She crossed her arms, making each scar on her skin flex and shine under the light. She had a few on her face, too. One drew an almost sensual line on the corner of her lips.

“They told me you’re fifty thousand lien in debt.” Unlike me, she hadn’t kept her full huntress uniform. Or maybe she just didn’t like wearing it. Still, the loose strap on her shoulder made me uncomfortable; I reached out and fixed it. “Maybe we can pretend we don’t know anything about the other.”

Like most huntresses I encountered, she remained fixated on me, unblinking. It’s the way I smell, I think. A rabbit before hounds.

Then her partner Lie Ren was there. “Sounds like a plan to me.” He put an arm over her shoulder and they returned to their corner of the room.

After that we waited for the last member to arrive-- Blake stooped to avoid bumping ears against the doorframe, stepping into the basement to join the rest.

Standing at Blake’s right hand was another faunus I didn’t recognize. He looked reedy and disproportionate, still growing into those bull horns atop his head.

“Adam will be riding with you,” Blake said. “He’s young, but he follows orders.”

“We get them younger in training,” I said, studying him. The teenaged faunus dug his hands deeply into his pockets, brows furrowed as he tried to stare me down. “Are you prepared knowing that he probably won’t make it to the other side?”

“I leave that decision up to him,” was all Blake said before giving me a set of keys. “I will be waiting for you in Vacuo to receive the merchandise. Try not to get scratches on my motorcycle.”

My grip tightened. “Your _what_?”

For a moment all that primal fury washed over me again, Blake bristling at the challenge. But then the intensity in gold eyes faded, and Blake winked. “I don’t want to pay the transport fees.”

Great. I pocketed the keys, and one of the humans in the room spoke up.

“Everyone over here. One at a time.”

Tall and dark skinned, gold eyes betrayed a faunus heritage. He fiddled with the tub in the corner of the room. To my surprise it moved with an aching groan, sliding away to reveal a thin tunnel and a ladder heading further down.

“So how do you guys shower?” I asked, only half-joking as I stepped down the first rung. No response. He either didn’t get it or didn’t find it funny.

It led to a tunnel. Circumventing the walls above, we travelled in silence until I found a steel door. Struggling with rust and age, I pried it open and blinked into the sunlight of the outside world.

Sun bounced up to me, tail rolling in little waves. “Yo, Ruby!” he said. Out here, exposed, it felt like he was shouting. “I got the trucks. You guys ready?”

“Less talking,” someone said behind me, speaking my thoughts out loud. It was the human who had led us down; I hadn’t heard him move so his closeness caught me by surprise.

Sun’s tail drooped, almost tucking between his legs. “Sorry, Sage.”

“If anybody makes too much noise, feel free to slit their throat,” Nora said cheerily, taking the keys from Sun’s back pocket and heading over to her truck. She sat with Ren and the Malachite twins, while Adam, Cinder, Sun and I took over our vehicle.

“Don’t actually do that,” Roman clarified, cane swinging as he hopped into the driver’s seat. Despite everything, my opinion of him slid up a notch just for the fact that he’d be joining us.

The engines started with barely a whisper, flying like owls through rocky terrain and broken roads. I wanted to go over the details with everyone one more time, but I had no choice. I just had to trust that they knew their job.

I drove the first shift. Cinder and Adam rode in the back while Sun took shotgun, literally. He slouched with one knee up to his chest, the barrel pointed outside.

For the first two days, not a single word passed between us. We started taking shifts, one at the wheel while the other three rested or kept watch.

I found myself resting the same times Cinder did. We squeezed in between crates loaded with volatile dust and a motorcycle wrapped in canvas, rattling away on the bumpy roads. If she could, she’d sit beside me with her head on my shoulder, eyes closed. Else, she’d curl up on my lap with her arms around my neck.

On the fifth day I spotted train tracks.

They were one of the greatest marvels of the old world. I’d never seen them before, and openly gaped as we dared close. They stretched from kingdom to kingdom, once, but the scabs got too smart. They laid traps on the way, derailed the cars. Slaughtered the passengers-- or infected just one of them to begin the apocalypse anew at the last stop.

My joy was short-lived. It only took a few double-checks to realize we hadn’t come across the tracks by chance.

We were following them.

Scabs flock to man-made objects.

Cinder rested a hand on my lap, riding shotgun without a seatbelt again. I spared her a single glance, hoping she could read my displeasure.

But she just smiled.

It had been years since I’d seen the world outside the walls. It changed the way nature does, rapidly and overwhelming. Trees sprung up, towering over us, branches weaving up top. Shadows seemed to trickle over Cinder’s face as she kept watch, sunlight just barely penetrating the thick foliage above.

When we paused for a water stop, I made sure everyone else was done before I drank. And I stayed downstream.

Crouching, I splashed water on my face, rubbing the back of my neck and the gunk out of my eyes. We didn’t have time to stay long, and the more time I wasted, the more likely it was we’d be spotted by Scabs.

“You _are_ sick,” Cinder said, directly behind me when I stood. “And you think it’s contagious.”

I nearly tripped face-first into the water, flailing as I turned around. The sudden movement made my ribs hurt. Before I could reprimand Cinder for talking, I fell to my knees again.

Fighting against a shout of pain, I grit my teeth tightly. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I held myself and trembled, waiting for it to subside.

Buried deep inside myself, I had no excuse ready for when Cinder crouched next to me. Gold eyes flicked all over my body, trying to take me apart. Her curiosity was grotesque, like a child looking at something dead floating in the water.

“Stop being nosy,” I finally said. Standing straight again, I slapped her hand aside when she offered to help me up.

Back in the trucks, I laid down and tried to rest. Cinder sat up front.

 

* * *

 

“Oh, _shit_.”

Sun’s voice woke me up. Twitching upright and instantly alert, I moved over to peer out the front, trying to spot what had made Sun break our silence.

All three trucks halted at once. The clearest path to our next destination was blocked, but not by debris or ruins as we’d encountered before.

At least twenty Scabs stood in our way, arms linked together. Complete silence marked their presence, silence marred only by the occasional rattle of air through ruined lungs. Swaying in place, they made no move towards us, didn’t even acknowledge our presence.

Cinder took my hand, fingers linking with mine so tight that her hands shook.

Not tearing my eyes away from the Scabs, I gestured to the other trucks. They followed my instructions, slowly reversing back the way we had come. With an apologetic smile, I made Cinder let go of me and then tapped Sun on the shoulder.

He twitched, staring at me in fear. Sweat poured down him, sticking to his shirt and coating the wheel in a slick shine of nerves.

I pointed at the wheel. Sun let me take over, scooting aside. In control of the vehicle, I idled away from the group of Scabs. Instead of retreating, I continued forward and took another path.

It was always our plan to split up if we encountered Scabs. At least one of us should make it.

... _Should_ make it.

The truck inched along. I kept her at a steady speed, not wanting to rattle our cargo and make more noise. We continued like that, holding our breaths, until...

Nothing. An hour passed, and then another. Little by little, we started to relax enough that Sun dared to ask a question.

“...What were they doing back there?”

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the road. “I have no idea.”

 

* * *

 

The next day we reconvened with the other two trucks. They’d escaped unscathed as well, but we agreed  separate trails from there on out was the way to go.

“Bye bye, punkin,” Roman whispered to Cinder. He winked and she lifted her lips in a snarl. Catching his bowler hat with the hook of his cane, he tugged it down before hopping back into his truck and driving away. Sage and Sun hugged briefly, and then we were on our own again.

The rest of the days passed mostly without incident. Two more times we ran into Scab congregations. Or herds. Or hordes. I wasn’t sure what else to call them, just that they were exhibiting extremely unusual behavior.

Then again, there wasn’t much data about how they acted outside the city limits. Cinder constantly straddled the line between excited and worried, grinning with confused pleasure every time we stumbled upon something unexpected.

We paused so Sun and I could check the engines and make sure everything was running smoothly. Adam took down the covering on the back of the truck, mending a hole from an accidental Dust spillage. It’d been a little bit of the red stuff, nothing major.

“Did this happen last time?” I asked Cinder once I could, winding around the truck to find her having a smoke break.

Cinder shrugged, a plume of blue smoke escaping her lips. Waving it aside, I snatched the cigarette right out of her hands, ready to flick it away.

“No!”

She almost raised her voice, reaching for it with wide eyes. So I paused, eyebrow raised.

“...That’s my last one,” she admitted, lips pursed. “I only brought half a pack.”

Mmmm. I didn’t like it, but I saw no reason to be cruel. “Good thing we’re only out here one more day.”

She took the cigarette back gratefully, sighing in relief. “No, this didn’t happen last time. Last time we bumped into a few Scabs, but we were already in Grimm territory so they were too spooked to come near.”

I wasn’t looking forward to that part of the journey. Not that I looked forward to any part of this journey except for the end. We started up the truck again, though Adam didn’t have time to fully mend our overhead cover. He spat out curses, unsteady hand weaving a patch onto the burnt part.

“Give me that,” Cinder finally said, taking it from his hands. She moved with the precision of a machine, making neat stitches, perfectly spaced and all exactly the same size. “Now be a doll and put it back up for us.”

“You talk too much,” Adam said, speaking through gritted teeth. He gestured around us, making a salient point. Even if the Scabs were acting odd, we didn’t want to attract their attention. So we fell quiet again as he set up our cover-- but not fast enough.

The branches rattled above us, something heavy and black dropping at my feet. It clunked on the metal floor, rolling until it rested face-up.

It was a human head.

Too well-trained to scream in fright, I got up and did the first thing I could think of: punting it right over the side of the truck. Before I realized what was happening, dozens more fell-- stretched and black, mouths yawning open and slowly closing down in an uncontrollable instinct to bite.

Not human heads. Scab heads.

Up front, Sun flailed wildly. A silent frenzy overtook us, shaking the heads off of pant legs and sleeves as they tried to clutch on. Breathing heavily, Sun struggled out of his jacket, using it to shield his hands as he grabbed another Scab head and tossed it out.

“I got the Scabs. Floor it!” I hissed.

He didn’t need to be told twice. There was no satisfying roar of an engine at full strength, but Cinder was caught off guard. She stumbled into my arms, losing her balance as the truck sped and weaved wildly through the path. Once we were free of the treeline I did a double check of all our crates, making sure nothing lingered in the truck except us and our cargo.

Adam shook from head to toe, white and sweating and wild-eyed. The truck bumped and trudged along. Taking a deep breath, I found one of our maps and opened it. We could remain out in the open for a while, but eventually we’d have to find tree cover again or risk being spotted by Grimm or-- this close to the city-- man-made patrol drones.

“No way to the city without hitting trees again,” I said as loud as I dared. And who knew what traps the Scabs had in store for us next.

“One problem.” Sun wiped his forehead, driving with unsteady hands. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it that far.”

Sun lifted one arm high, hand still shaking. An imperfect semicircle of bite marks bled freely, trailing down in thick black lines on his skin.

“Well that’s bad,” I said.

Sun sputtered out a laugh, nervously trying to keep quiet. None of us said anything, crouched in the backseat as we tried to digest this.

Cinder recovered first, walking over to him. She leaned down, whispering something into his ear that I didn’t catch. Hesitantly, he agreed, and she hopped over to sit up front with him. Cinder said, “Ruby. Third crate from the bottom.”

“Are you immune?” Adam asked. Crowbar in my hand, the tone of his voice made me pause before I got to work on the crate.

“No,” Sun said, and Adam’s hand dropped down to the sword at his waist. Dropping the crowbar, I grabbed Adam’s forearm, crushingly tight, and pulled him close to me.

Adam resisted, struggling to break free. I just held him tighter, boring down on him, forcing him to look me in the eyes. My hand shook from the effort of keeping him still, making sure he didn’t draw his blade.

“You are not in charge here,” he said at last, still trying to draw.

“Neither are you,” I countered.

“If he turns--”

“Then I’ll put him down,” Cinder finished, one arm draped over the back of Sun’s seat. She lifted a hand to ruffle his spiky blond hair before gripping the back of his neck. Sun sat straight in his seat, pale under his tan as he continued to drive without comment.

Adam glared from Cinder back to me, jaw stubbornly set.

“Ruby,” Cinder said. “The Dust?”

Right. Letting Adam go, I opened up my arms in a dare, asking him to strike me. He didn’t. So I turned my back on him and grabbed the crowbar again, cracking open some ice Dust and passing it over to Cinder.

“Th-the money,” Sun started, but Cinder shushed him.

“Shhhh.” She pressed a finger to his lips, one hand still on the back of his neck, red nails tracing through his hair. “We can take it out of your paycheck.”

I wish I had my spinner ring. Instead I fell back on an old speech, one I learned a long time ago. “Something like seventy percent of people get _really_ sick from the bite. Twenty-five percent don’t get anything worse than a mild rash.”

“So that last five percent....” Sun sounded hopeful.

Leaning over, I took a look at Sun’s bite. “They develop immunity, like me.” I pressed a hand to the side of his head, checking his temperature.

Already spiking.

I exchanged a glance with Cinder.

“...Drive fast, Sun,” I said, and Cinder started channelling the ice Dust to try and keep him cool. Eschewing any breaks, Sun drove for as long as he could until his vision started blurring. He clambered over into the back, leaning out and retching behind us on the road.

Disgusted, Adam sat up front with me and we took turns at the wheel.

Five miles out from our arrival point and we encountered another blockade.

Frustrated, I slammed a palm against the wheel. The congregation of Scabs stood, and swayed, and blocked the road with a mass of rotting flesh so thick there was no way we could just ram through. If we took the alternate route, we’d be inescapably entrenched in the deepest, darkest part of Grimm territory.

Which, in retrospect, was probably their plan from the beginning.

“Adam, take the wheel.” Clambering out to the back, I pulled out my knife and started cutting at the ropes holding Blake’s motorcycle down. “I’m gonna be a loud distraction. Once they start chasing me, the path should clear and you can get out of here!”

Sun couldn’t argue, curled into a ball as he sweated and trembled uncontrollably, black pitch seeping out from the corners of his mouth. But I saw his eyes on me, pleading without words as I rolled the motorcycle out the back and onto the road.

“You’re crazy,” Adam said.

Cinder’s expression was cool, amused. “This again?”

“I know how to avoid them and if they catch me they can’t infect me anyway.” I shut the back latch of the truck and let it move off. 

Once I was a good distance away, I twisted the keys and let the engine roar. Unlike our truck, this wasn’t designed to avoid detection-- and every Scab head turned towards me, locked in instant, seething hatred.

I whistled sharply, revving the engine again.

“Take the bait, assholes!” I shouted.

Instead, they all turned as one and swarmed towards the truck. Cinder responded at once, a torrid storm of icicles and glass blasting out at the Scabs. Adam peeled away, abandoning the plan and speeding right into the alternate route, driving into Grimm territory. Into the forest.

_No!_

I revved the engine again, yelling desperately to get the Scabs’ attention. But they herded Adam further into danger, charging and clattering teeth together in anticipation. Riding after them, I tried to weave past and catch up to the truck, kicking a few Scabs out of the way when they got too close.

If we kept going we would outrun the Scabs for sure, but Sun might not make it-- not to mention what might happen if we came across any Grimm.

Standing in the back of the truck, Cinder glittered with raw power and Dust. It took shape in her hands, and with a long pull she drew back an arrow the length of my body and loosed it.

At one point she caught my eye, and smiled.

Then I heard a terrible crunching noise.

Then the back of the truck detached, with Sun and Cinder still inside.

Dodging to the side, I nearly went tumbling head over tires into a cluster of knotted, overgrown roots. Maintaining my balance again, I swerved back and skidded to a halt just in time to see the Scabs swarm over Cinder.

I didn’t even have time to react before a shivering chill overtook the air. I heard ringing, vibrating glass, and then an explosion of pure Dust.

And all around us I heard the forest come alive, burning red eyes and bone white masks whirling and swarming. Winged Grimm rushed around us, cawing and shrieking and pecking. I ducked my head, wincing and cursing at the claws scraping over my scalp, the hammer-hard pecks. My only consolation was that the Grimm targeted the Scabs as much as they did me. Whenever the crowd got too thick, jagged icicles zipped through the air, impaling the Grimm mid-flight.

When I lowered my arm, daring to look around, I could see my own breath. The bodies on the floor steamed in comparative heat, mingling with the pitch-black smog of decaying Grimm.  

“Phew.” Cinder blew out a little sigh like it was a smoke ring, running a messy hand through her bangs. Pushing loose hair from her face, she tilted her head back and looked at the sky. “Ruby. Please turn the motorcycle off.”

Oh.

I did as she said, getting off and rolling the bike closer. “You okay?”

“Fine. I’ll see to Sun. Find out why the truck fell apart.”

Parking the bike, I trot around the front to see what might have happened.

“Looks like a clean cut through the attachment.” Melted right through, with some stash of Dust or the power of a semblance, I couldn’t tell.

“So good at following orders, that Adam.” Cinder sounded amused, darkly so. “A smarter move would have been to kill us and take the Dust, not leave it all behind.”

Okay. Okay.

No time to panic.

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to see how we could salvage this. “Take Sun and the motorcycle and go to the gates. I’ll stay with the cargo, you can come back for me.”

“That noisy thing will draw attention that I’m not sure I can fend off by myself.”

“Do you have a better idea?” I snapped, and beside us I heard Sun let out a bloody, gurgling moan. Straining with the effort, he fought back screams of pain as he vomited again, all of it black and curdled. “He doesn’t have much time.”

Cinder’s lips twisted in displeasure. Then she snapped her fingers, like she had just finished proving a point. A jagged line of frost crawled out from beneath her feet, arcing over to Sun and zipping over his body. Wherever it touched, a fine layer of ice formed until he was covered head to toe. Only his mouth remained free, open and panting every ragged breath.

“Hypothermia or fever. Let’s see what kills him first.” Taking her bag from the back, Cinder tossed it to me. “Go to the gate with Sun. I’ll wait here.”

“I can’t-- I can’t just leave you!”

“Ruby. Only two of us fit on the bike.” Grabbing the front of my armor, she tugged me closer. “Do as I say!”

There was no other plan. It reminded me of that old brain teaser. A farmer has a wolf, a goat, and a head of cabbage, and a ricket raft to ford the river.

_The wolf will eat the goat, and the goat will eat the cabbage--_

Another voice spoke.

“Don’t worry ladies! We can provide assistance.”

A sharp metallic noise rang out, like whetstone sliding over steel. Cinder’s golden eyes widened for a fraction, rage and surprise warring on her face.

Underneath us, a semblance formed up, spinning glyphs forming the disquietingly familiar Schnee snowflake. A brand I’d recognize anywhere, and its terrible power flowed through my body, rendering me immobile.

Landing in front of me, Blake Belladonna-- the smaller one, the one who shocked me-- unwound a black ribbon from around one forearm, sword drawn. On my right side, a set of heels announced a second person, a figure all in white.

“I wish I could say I’m surprised, but thieves rarely change their stripes.”

Weiss Schnee pulled off a tight leather glove with her teeth, marking the air again with countless glyphs. One chained me down, and one clamped my mouth shut, and one hummed just centimeters from my neck. I didn’t need to touch it to know it was razor sharp.

“Weiss.... darling.” Cinder, somehow, could still struggle out a smile and a last parting phrase. She trembled with the effort of speaking while bespelled, but didn’t look afraid at all. “Let’s be reasonable about this.”

Weiss stared her down, spine straight, expression affronted.

“I'm tired of listening to you talk.”

Then a spear of ice flew from Weiss’ outstretched hand, piercing right through Cinder’s throat and pinning her to the side of the truck.


End file.
